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Rowan kept his own lowered. “You barely
slept last night.”
Aelin tensed. “Bad dreams.” An
understatement. She lifted her chin and threw
him a grin. “Perhaps I’m starting to wear you
down a bit.”
Despite the blisters, she’d gained back
weight, at least. Had watched her arms go
from thin to cut with muscle, her thighs from
reeds to sleek and powerful.
Rowan didn’t return her smile. “Let’s eat
breakfast.”
“After that dinner last night, I’m in no
hurry.” She didn’t give him a blink of warning
before she launched herself at him, swiping
high with Goldryn and stabbing low with her
dagger.
Rowan met her attack, easily deflecting.
They clashed, broke apart, and clashed again.
His canines gleamed. “You need to eat.”