wonder her throat didn’t bleed. “Lorcan!”
The dam remained intact. Which of her
breaths would be her last?
“LORCAN!”
A pained groan answered from behind.
Elide twisted in the saddle and scanned the
path of Valg dead behind her.
A broad, tanned hand rose from beneath a
thick pile of them, and fought for purchase on
a soldier’s breastplate. Not twenty feet away.
A sob cracked from her, and Farasha
cantered toward that straining, bloodied hand.
The horse skidded to a halt, gore flying from
her hooves. Elide threw herself from the
saddle before scrambling toward him.
Armor and blades sliced into her, dead
flesh slapping against her skin as she shoved
away demon corpses, grunting at their weight.
Lorcan met her halfway, that hand becoming
an arm, then two—pushing off the bodies
lily
(lily)
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