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pouring from the tower slowed. As if Lorcan
was indeed forcing his way down the interior.
Those who got past him met her blade, or
Rowan’s. A flash of gold, and Gavriel had
slaughtered his way into the siege tower as
well, twin blades a whirlwind.
What Lorcan and the Lion would do upon
reaching the bottom, how they’d dislodge the
tower, she didn’t know. Didn’t think about it.
Not from this place of killing and
movement, of breath and blood. Of freedom.
Death had been her curse and her gift and
her friend for these long, long years. She was
happy to greet it again under the golden
morning sun.