calm settling over her. “I was a child then, and
I survived. You’re a grown man.” She let her
lips curl in another smile. “We’ll see if you
do, too.”
She didn’t try to hide her limp as she
strode out. As she caught Lorcan’s eye and
beheld the pride gleaming there.
Not a whisper—not one whisper from that
voice who had guided her. Not from fear, but
... Perhaps she did not need Anneith, Lady of
Wise Things. Perhaps the goddess had known
she herself was not needed.
Not anymore.
Aelin knew that one word from her, and
Lorcan would rip out Vernon’s throat. Or
perhaps begin with snapping bones.
Or skin him alive, as Rowan had done with
Cairn.
As she followed Elide, the Lady of