Kingdom of Ash

existed, yet ... it was silent.
He’d puzzled over it during the long hours
they’d traveled, during his hours on watch.
Even the hours when he should have been
sleeping.
He hadn’t felt pain in the bond that day in
Eyllwe. He’d felt it when Dorian Havilliard
had stabbed her in the glass castle, had felt the
bond—what he’d so stupidly thought was the
carranam bond between them—stretching to
the breaking point as she’d come so, so close
to death.
Yet that day on the beach, when Maeve had
attacked her, then had Cairn whip her—
Rowan clenched his jaw hard enough to
hurt, even as his stomach roiled. He glanced
to Goldryn, lying beside him on the bedroll.
Gently, he set the blade before him, staring
into the ruby in the center of its hilt, the stone
smoldering in the firelight.