1564024802

than any he’d known.
The queen is at the front line—at the right
flank.
Lysandra.
Lysandra had taken on Aelin’s skin.
He whirled toward the nonexistent right
flank.
Just as the golden-haired queen in
borrowed armor faced two ilken, a sword and
shield in her hands.
No.
The word was a punch through his body,
greater than any blow he’d felt.
Aedion began running, shoving through his
own men. Toward the too-distant right flank.
Toward the shape-shifter facing those ilken,
no claws or fangs or anything to defend her
beyond that sword and shield.
No.
He pushed men out of the way, the snow