The Ice (The Bound and the Broken, #3.5)

by Ryan Cahill

There was a subtle difference between weeping and crying. There were a thousand reasons to shed a tear, but weeping was born of grief and grief alone.

“Le sangar mes vialor vitír à talers ul.” The blood of the lost lives on through us.

Myia nithír til diar. Draleid n’aldryr, Rakina nai dauva. Du haryn myia vandair.” My soul to yours. Dragonbound by fire, Broken by death. You have my oath.

‘Keep your legends at a distance, because up close they are full of holes.’