Lysandra didn’t bother to look pleasant,
before he turned back to his companions.
“That’s thirty,” Ansel said.
“We can count,” Rolfe snipped.
Ansel lifted a wine-red brow. “Can you
really?”
Despite the army marching on them,
Lysandra’s mouth twitched upward.
Rolfe just rolled his eyes and went back to
watching the approaching army.
“They won’t arrive until dawn at the
earliest,” Aedion observed, his face grim.
She had not yet decided what form to take.
Where to fight. If ilken still flew in their
ranks, then it would be a wyvern, but if closer
quarters were required, then ... she hadn’t
decided. No one had asked her to be anywhere
in particular, though Aedion’s request the
other night to assist in their wild plan had
been a rare reprieve from these days of
lily
(lily)
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