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And there is only one witch who will be my queen.
“From now until the Darkness claims us.”
She passed through a world where a great city had been built along the curve of a river, the buildings impossibly tall and glimmering with lights.
She passed through a world of snowcapped mountains under shining stars. Passed over one of those mountains, where a winged male stood beside a heavily pregnant female, gazing at those very stars. Fae.
“I will find you again,” he promised her. “In whatever life comes after this.”
Aelin grinned. “Shall we?”
“Ask me to marry you.” Elide began crying, even as she laughed. “Will you marry me, Lorcan Salvaterre?” He swept her up into his arms, raining kisses over her face. As if some final, chained part of him had been freed. “I’ll think about it.”
Both of them still grieving, still broken in places, but in this new world of theirs … perhaps they might heal. Together.
