Wrath (The Faithful and the Fallen, #4)

by John Gwynne

‘Can you never come back to me without a fresh wound?’ ‘It’s a bad habit, I must confess.’ He smiled at her.

I love them, Your Honour.

‘For Kastell,’ Maquin whispered, then he shoved the blade up with all his strength.

Finally!

Upon jagged rocks lapped by water Maquin could see a body, limbs twisted at impossible angles. A spray of black hair spread across the rock, the bright splash of blood about it.

John Gywne, when I catch you...