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Aelin disappeared into a dip in the earth, and when she emerged, the Lion ran at her side, a golden shield around her. Not close to her—but in the air around them. Unable to fully touch her with the iron mask, the chains draped around her torso. The iron gauntlets on her hands.
Aelin sobbed, her body shuddering with the force of it. “Take it off. ” Rowan’s eyes flickered, panic and heartbreak and longing shining there. “I will. But you have to be still, Fireheart. Just for a few moments.” “Take it off. ” The sobs ebbed, tricking into something broken and raw. Rowan ran his thumbs over her wrists, over those iron shackles. As if it were nothing but her skin. Slowly, her shaking eased.
Aelin knelt beside Fenrys, and her flame enveloped them both. The fire gave way to a reddish-gold aura, a shield that he knew would melt the flesh of anyone who tried to cross. It flowed and rippled around them, a bubble of coppery air, and through it, Rowan watched as she ran a hand down the wolf’s battered side.
exhausted soldiers trickled past Lysandra as she trudged between them, wearing the form of a horse. She’d allowed a young man onto her back when she’d spied his guts nearly hanging out of his rent armor. For long miles, his leaking blood had warmed her sides as he lay sprawled over her. The warm trickle had long stopped. Frozen. So had he. She hadn’t the heart to dislodge him, to leave his dead body on the field to be trampled. His blood had frozen him to her anyway.
“Is he alive?” Cold rage flickered across Rowan’s eyes. “No.” Dead. Cairn was dead. The tautness in her body eased—just slightly. Her flame, too, banked. “How?” No remorse dimmed his face. “You once told me at Mistward that if I ever took a whip to you, then you’d skin me alive.” His eyes didn’t stray from hers as he said with lethal quiet, “I took it upon myself to bestow that fate on Cairn on your behalf. And when I was done, I took the liberty of removing his head from his body, then burning what remained.” A pause, a ripple of doubt. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you the chance to do it
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“I didn’t break,” she said quietly. His heart cracked at the words. “I didn’t tell them anything.” She didn’t say it for praise, to boast. But rather to tell him, her consort, of where they stood in this war. What their enemies might know. “I knew you wouldn’t,” he managed to say.
He’d done it for her. She knew it. He’d summoned Maeve’s armada because he’d believed they were about to be destroyed by Melisande’s fleet. He’d done it for her, just as he’d dropped the shield around them that day Fenrys had ripped a chunk out of her arm, in exchange for Gavriel’s healing her.
forget about you, to let you go—” “I don’t care about me! I didn’t care about me on that beach!” “Well, I do.” His growled words echoed across the water and stone, and he lowered his voice. Worse things than wights might come sniffing down here. “I cared about you on that beach. And your queen did, too.”
Silently, Rowan grasped her own hand and eased on the emerald ring. “To whatever end,” he whispered. Silver lined her eyes. “To whatever end.” A reminder—and a vow, more sacred than the wedding oaths they’d sworn on that ship. To walk this path together, back from the darkness of the iron coffin. To face what waited in Terrasen, ancient promises to the gods be damned.
His father looked at him at last, his face grave. “Your wife is pregnant.” The shock roiled through Chaol like a physical blow. Yrene—Yrene— “A skilled healer she might be, but a deft liar, she is not. Or have you not noticed her hand frequently resting on her stomach, or how green she turns at mealtime?”
“We will lose this war if I do not go,” he snapped. “How do you not care about that?” “I care,” she hissed. “I care if we lose this war. I care if I fail to rally the Crochans. I care if you go into Morath and do not return, not as something worth living.” He only blinked. Manon spat on the mossy ground. “Now do you wish to tell me that caring is not such a bad thing? Well, this is what comes of it.”
“The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn’t understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn’t be you with me. And I’d never trade that, trade this. Not for anything.”
“I don’t have another choice,” Aelin said quietly, so the others might not hear. “I can’t risk Terrasen.” She still held her arm toward him. “But I would not take something as precious away from you.” “What you don’t realize is that is no longer a possibility.” Again, that hint of a smile and glance over her shoulder toward Elide. “It is.”
KOA - listen it’s very cute of her to do this for Elide and Lorcan but also I would want him in my army
“Ride with us,” Manon breathed. “Fly with us. Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future.” Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, “An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last.”
He just turned to her and blinked three times. Are you all right? A gull’s cry pierced the gray world, and Aelin blinked back twice. No. It was as much as she’d admit. She blinked again, thrice now. Are you all right? Two blinks from him, too. No, they were not all right.
Lysandra hit the snow, shouting in pain, and Aedion was there, heaving her up, yanking his sword from the ilken’s head and bringing it down upon the sinewy neck. Once. Twice. The ilken’s head tumbled into the snow and mud, the other beast instantly swallowed by the Morath soldiers who had paused to watch. Who now looked upon the queen and her general and charged.