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Aedion stared at the precious few logs
burning in the brazier, and said nothing.
“What have you done?” Ren breathed.
Everything was about to end. Had been
doomed since Maeve had stolen Aelin. Since
his queen and the shifter had struck their
agreement.
So it didn’t matter, what he’d said. He
hadn’t cared if it wasn’t fair, wasn’t true.
Didn’t care if he was so tired he couldn’t
muster shame at his pinning on her the blame
for the sure defeat they’d face in a matter of
days before Perranth’s walls.
He wished she’d smacked him, had
screamed at him.
But she had let him rage. And had walked
out into the snow, barefoot.
He’d promised to save Terrasen, to hold
the lines. Had done so for years.
And yet this test against Morath, when it