at his side.
Her palms turned sweaty. Had been
sweating since they’d bound up Vernon, since
she’d seen the iron chains.
Aelin reached for her magic. Not the raging
flame, but the cooling droplet of water. She
listened to its silent song, letting it wash
through her. And in its wake, she knew what
she wished to do.
Lorcan took a step toward the chamber
door, but Aelin blocked his path. She said,
“Torture won’t get anything out of him.”
Even Elide blinked at that.
Aelin said, “Vernon likes to play games.
Then I’ll play.”
Rowan’s eyes guttered. As if he could scent
the sweat on her hands, as if he knew that
doing it the old-fashioned way ... it’d send
her puking her guts up over the edge of the
Northern Fang.
lily
(lily)
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