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the blood, both her own and others’, when he
beheld the chains and the iron mask clamped
over her face, when she was sobbing at the
sight of him, terror and despair coating her
scent—
The rage that roiled through him had no
space for mercy. No room for compassion.
There was neither in him as he and Gavriel
snuck past the last cluster of tents to the large
one situated in a cleared circle of grass. As if
no one could stomach being near Cairn.
Fenrys was with her. Or had been.
From the quiet inside, he wondered if the
wolf was dead.
Gavriel shifted into his Fae form, and freed
a knife at his hip. An exchanged glance
conveyed the order for silence as Rowan sent
a wisp of wind floating into the tent.
It sang back to him of two life-forms. Both
injured. Blood thick in the air. It was all he