A hand closed around her arm. ‘Get off my brother,’ came a snarling voice from above. King Alarik stood over her, with bright, violent eyes. Rose tried to shake him off. ‘Let me go. I can help him! I can heal him!’ Alarik dragged her away from the dead prince, his soldiers swarming at his back. Tor pushed his way through. ‘Let her go to him, Alarik! Let her try.’ The king turned on his soldier with the icy rage of a blizzard. ‘You have done enough, Tor.’ He bared his teeth menacingly, but his voice cracked with the fissure of his grief. Ansel is dead because of you.’ ‘Move, all of you! GET OUT
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