CHAPTER 105

Blood rained over the battlefield.
Blood and arrows, so many that as they
found marks in Lysandra’s flank, her wings, it
barely registered.
Morath had been reserving its arsenal.
Until today.
With the dawn, they had unleashed such a
torrent of arrows that getting into the skies
had been a lethal gauntlet. She had not wanted
to know how many Crochans had fallen,
despite the best efforts of the rebel Ironteeth
to shield them with their wyverns’ bodies.
But most had made it into the air—and