1564024802

and Aelin winked at the girl.
But Falkan said to Aelin and her
companions, “You know my niece.”
His brother must have been a great deal
older to have sired Lysandra. There was
nothing of Falkan in her friend’s face, though
Lysandra had also forgotten her original form.
“Lysandra is my friend, and Lady of
Caraverre,” Aelin said. “She is not with us,”
she added upon Falkan’s hopeful glance
toward the tent flaps. “She’s in the North.”
Borte had gone back to studying the Fae
males. Not their considerable beauty, but their
size, their pointed ears, their weapons and
elongated canines. Aelin whispered
conspiratorially to the girl, “Make them roll
over before you offer them a treat.”
Lorcan glared, but Fenrys shifted in a flash,
the enormous white wolf filling the space.
Hasar swore, Sartaq backing away a step,