wrapped her thin white hands around his neck.
And snapped it.
Aelin screamed. Screamed, clutching at her
chest, at the shredding mating bond—
Aelin arched off the altar, and every broken
and torn part of her body screamed with her.
Above her, Maeve was smiling. “You liked
that vision, didn’t you?”
Not real. That had not been real. Rowan
was alive, he was alive—
She tried to move her arm. Red-hot
lightning lashed her, and she screamed again.
Only a broken rasp came out. Broken, just
as her arm now lay—
Now lay—
Bone gleamed, jutting upward along more
places than she could count. Blood and
twisted skin, and—
No shackle scars, even with the wreckage.