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Only this. Only the blood oath.
And as Fenrys managed to lap the blood
from her wound, as he swore a silent vow to
their queen, blinking a few more times,
Rowan’s chest became unbearably tight.
Severing the blood oath to one queen had
snapped his life force, his soul. Swearing the
blood oath to another might very well repair
that cleaving, the ancient magic binding
Fenrys’s fading life to Aelin’s.
Three mouthfuls. That’s all Fenrys took
before he laid his head back on the moss and
closed his eyes.
Aelin curled on her side next to him,
flames encompassing them both.
Rowan couldn’t move. None of them
moved.
Aelin mouthed a short, curt word.
Fenrys did not respond.
She spoke again, that queen’s face