across his face. As if Maeve knew precisely
where to strike.
Fenrys went down again, blood splattering
on the snow. A flash of light, and he shifted
into his Fae form. What she’d done to his face
—
No. No—
Aelin managed to rally enough air to rasp,
“Run.”
Rowan glanced at her then. At the warning.
Just as Maeve struck once more.
As if she had been holding back her power
—waiting for them. For this.
A wave of blackness enveloped her mate.
Enveloped Lorcan and Fenrys, too.
Their magic flared, illumining the darkness
like lightning behind a cloud. Yet it was not
enough to free themselves from Maeve’s grip.
Ice and wind blasted against it, again and
again. Brutal, calculated strikes.
lily
(lily)
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