Nesryn lifted her head, brows narrowing.
Behind them, Salkhi patiently stood while the
healer’s magic soothed over his eye. “A good
night’s rest, I hope,” she said.
Sartaq laughed, and pressed a kiss to her
temple. “It means,” he said against her skin,
“that we are going home. That you are coming
home—with me.”
And even with the battle freshly ended,
even with the dead and wounded around them,
Nesryn smiled. Home. Yes, she would go
home with him to the southern continent. And
to all that waited there.
Aelin, Rowan, Lorcan, and Fenrys lingered on
the plain outside the city gates until they were
certain the fallen army was not going to rise.
Until the khagan’s troops went between the
enemy soldiers, nudging and prodding. And
received no answer.