not frightened at all, if it meant her reaching
the keep.
So Lorcan kissed Elide’s cheek again,
allowed himself to breathe in her scent one
last time. “I love you,” he repeated, and began
to withdraw his arms from around her waist.
Elide slapped a hand onto his forearm. Dug
in her nails, right into his skin, fierce as any
ruk.
“No.”
There were no tears in her voice. Nothing
but solid, unwavering steel.
“No,” she said again. The voice of the Lady
of Perranth.
Lorcan tried to move his arm, but her grip
would not be dislodged.
If he tumbled off the horse, she would go
with him.
Together. They would either outrun this or
die together.
lily
(lily)
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