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She got her other hand on one of their
daggers.
Then it was over. Then there was nothing
between her and the camp entrance but the six
guards drawing their weapons—
Lorcan lashed out with his magic, a lethal
net of power that had those guards crashing to
their knees. Necks snapped.
Aelin didn’t falter as they wilted to the
ground. She charged past, aiming straight for
the field and hills. To where Lorcan ran for
her.
He signaled again. To me, to me.
Whether Aelin recognized it, or him, she
still raced his way.
Whole. Her body looked whole, and yet she
was so thin, her blood-splattered legs
straining to keep her upright.
A rolling field of steep bumps and hollows
lay between them. Lorcan swore.