muffled screams within still reached her here.
Two princesses, one golden and one silver.
One young and one ancient. Both the cost of
sealing that gate to eternity.
The air would run out soon. She’d already
lost too much of it in her frantic clawing at
the stone. Her fingertips pulsed where she’d
broken nails and skin.
Those female screams became quieter.
She should accept it, embrace it. Only
when she did would the lid open.
The air was so hot, so precious. She could
not get out, could not get out—
Aelin hauled herself into waking. The room
remained dark, her companions’ deep
breathing holding steady.
Open, fresh air. The stars just visible
through the narrow window.
No Wyrdstone coffin. No gate poised to