Kingdom of Ash

would do it. Every brutal hour and bit of
agony.
And it would hurt, and she would scream,
but she’d face it. Survive against it.
Arobynn had not broken her. Neither had
Endovier.
She would not allow this waste of existence
to do so now.
Her shaking eased, her body going still.
Waiting.
Maeve blinked at her. Just once.
Aelin sucked in a breath—sharp and cool.
She did not want it to be over. Any of it.
Cairn faded into the wind. Then the chains
vanished with him.
Aelin sat up in the coffin. Maeve backed
away all of a step.
Aelin surveyed the illusion, so artfully
wrought. The stone chamber, with its braziers
and hook from the ceiling. The stone altar.