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you he’s a prick and a miserable bastard to be
around, will it change your mind?”
Lorcan snarled, but Aelin snorted. “Isn’t
that why we love Lorcan, though?” She gave
him a smile that told Lorcan she remembered
every detail of their initial encounters in
Rifthold—when he’d shoved her face-first
into a brick wall. Aelin said to Fenrys, “We’ll
only invite him to Orynth on holidays.”
“So he can ruin the festivities?” Fenrys
scowled. “I, for one, cherish my holidays. I
don’t need a misanthrope raining on them.”
Gods above. Lorcan cut Rowan a look, but
the warrior-prince was watching his queen
carefully. As if he knew precisely what
manner of storm brewed beneath her skin.
Aelin waved a hand. “Fine, fine. You won’t
try to kill Lorcan for what happened in
Eyllwe, and in exchange, we won’t invite him
to anything.” Her grin was nothing short of