she had loved with her heart of wildfire.
So Aelin sketched a bow to Erawan and
said with every remaining scrap of bravado
she possessed, “We’ve met a few times, but
never as we truly are.” She winked at him.
Even as her knees quaked, she winked at him.
“Pretty as this form is, Erawan, I think I miss
Perrington. Just a little bit.”
Maeve’s nostrils flared.
But Erawan’s eyes slitted in amusement.
“Was it fate, you think, that we encountered
each other in Rifthold without recognizing the
other?”
Such casual, easy words from such
horrible, corrupt filth. Aelin made herself
shrug. “Fate, or luck?” She gestured to the
battlefield, her wrecked city. “This is a far
grander setting for our final confrontation,
don’t you think? Far more worthy of us.”
Maeve let out a hiss. “Enough of this.”
lily
(lily)
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