CHAPTER 107

Rowan’s breath was a steady rasp in his throat
as he charged through the lines of Valg
soldiers, screaming ringing out around him.
Nearby, cutting a swath through Morath’s
masses, Aelin and the Lord of the North
fought. Soldiers swarmed, but neither queen
nor stag balked.
Not when Aelin’s flame, reduced as it was,
kept any in her blind spots from landing a
blow.
The Darghan cavalry shoved Morath back,
and above them, ruks and wyverns clashed.
Beasts, feathered and scaled, crashed to the