whenever she’d taken her human form.
Fighting the urge to clench his jaw, Aedion
said, “You recognize Caraverre, then.”
Evangeline continued her merry jabbering,
but Lysandra’s eyes slid toward them.
“Darrow is not Lord of Allsbrook,” was all
Ren said.
Indeed. And who wouldn’t want such a
pretty neighbor?
That is, when she wasn’t living in Orynth
under another’s skin and crown, using Aedion
to sire a fake royal bloodline. Little more than
a stud to breed.
Lysandra again nodded her thanks, and
Ren’s blush deepened. As if they hadn’t spent
all day trekking through snow and
slaughtering Valg. As if the scent of gore
didn’t still cling to them.
Indeed, Evangeline sniffed at the cloak
Lysandra kept wrapped around herself and
lily
(lily)
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