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She loved him, but she hated herself for it.
He hadn’t deserved her anyway.
She deserved a life of peace, of happiness.
He didn’t know such things. Had thought he’d
glimpsed them during the months they’d
traveled together, before everything went to
hell, but now he knew he was not meant for
anything like it.
But this battlefield, this death-song around
him ... This, he could do. This, he could
savor.
The golden helmets of the khagan’s army
became clear, their fiery horses unfaltering.
Finer than any host he’d fought beside in a
mortal kingdom. In many immortal kingdoms,
too.
Obeying the death-song in his blood,
Lorcan let his shields drop. He did not wish it
to be easy. He wanted to feel each blow, see
his enemy’s life drain out beneath his sword.