She’d never say them. Never swear the
blood oath to Maeve.
Swear it, and hand over everything she
knew, everything she was. Become slave
eternal. And usher in the doom of the world.
Cairn’s grip on her neck loosened, and she
inhaled deeply. But his fingers lingered at the
right side of her throat.
She knew precisely what spot, what scar,
he brushed his fingers over. The twin small
markings in the space between her neck and
shoulder.
“Interesting,” Cairn murmured.
Aelin jerked her head away, baring her
teeth again.
Cairn struck her.
Not her face, clad in iron that would rip
open his knuckles. But her unprotected
stomach.
The breath slammed from her, and iron
lily
(lily)
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