He did not need Damaris to tell him the
words were true.
“Let me pay this debt,” his father said,
stepping closer. “Let me pay this, do this.
Does Mala’s blood not flow through my veins
as well?”
“You don’t have magic—not like we do,”
Aelin said, her eyes sorrowful.
His father met Aelin’s stare. “I have
enough—just enough in my blood. To help.”
Dorian glanced over his shoulder, toward
the archway that opened to Erilea. To home.
“Then let him,” he said, though the words did
not come out with the iciness he wished. Only
heaviness and exhaustion.
Aelin said softly to his father, “I had
planned to before it got to the end.”
“Then you will not be alone now,” his
father replied. Then the man smiled at him—a
vision of the king, the father, he might have
lily
(lily)
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