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A queen’s face, he realized as Lorcan and
Gavriel took up spots along the glen’s border.
It was a queen’s face that looked upon Fenrys.
A queen who took his massive paw in her
hands, pushing back folds of fur and skin to
unsheathe a curved claw.
She slid it over her bare forearm, splitting
skin. Leaving blood in its wake.
Rowan’s breath caught. Gavriel and Lorcan
whirled toward them.
Aelin spoke again, and Fenrys blinked once
in answer.
She deemed that answer enough.
“Holy gods,” Lorcan breathed as Aelin
extended her bleeding forearm to Fenrys’s
mouth. “Holy rutting gods.”
For Fenrys’s loyalty, for his sacrifice, there
was no greater reward she could offer. To
keep him from death, there was no other way
to save him.