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kingdom, Rowan froze.
The others were already halfway down the
hill, leading the horses along the dried slope
that would take them over Akkadia’s border
and onto the arid plains below.
His hand dropped from the stallion’s reins.
He had to have imagined it.
He scanned the starry sky, the slumbering
lands beyond, the Lord of the North above.
It hit him a heartbeat later. Erupted around
him and roared.
Over and over and over, as if it were a
hammer against an anvil.
The others whirled to him.
That raging, fiery song charged closer.
Through him.
Down the mating bond. Down into his very
soul.
A bellow of fury and defiance.
From down the hill, Lorcan rasped,