Kingdom of Ash

Lorcan keeping close.
Pain had become a dull roar in his ears.
He’d long since lost track of his wounds. He
remembered them only because of the iron
shard an arrow to his shoulder had left when
he wrenched it free.
A foolish, hasty mistake. The iron shard
was enough to keep him from shifting, from
flying to her. He hadn’t dared to pause long
enough to fish it from him, not with the
teeming enemy. So he kept fighting, his cadre
with him. Their horses charged bold and
dauntless beneath them, gaining ground, but
he could not see Aelin.
Only the Lord of the North, bounding
across the battlefield, aiming for Oakwald.
As if he had been set free.
Fenrys, face splattered with black blood,
shouted, “Where is she?”
Rowan scanned the field, heart thundering.