Kingdom of Ash (Throne of Glass, #7)

by Sarah J. Maas

He had to have imagined it. He scanned the starry sky, the slumbering lands beyond, the Lord of the North above. It hit him a heartbeat later. Erupted around him and roared. Over and over and over, as if it were a hammer against an anvil. The others whirled to him. That raging, fiery song charged closer. Through him. Down the mating bond. Down into his very soul. A bellow of fury and defiance. From down the hill, Lorcan rasped, “Rowan.” It was impossible, utterly impossible, and yet— “North,” Gavriel said, turning his bay gelding. “The surge came from the North.” From Doranelle. A beacon in the night. Power rippling into the world, as it had done in Skull’s Bay. It filled him with sound, with fire and light. As if it screamed, again and again, I am alive, I am alive, I am alive. And then silence. Like it had been cut off. Extinguished.