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574575 Jeren turned away, leaving Vertigern to swoop in and issue commands to prepare for war. War she had never wanted. She sheathed the sword gratefully and then lifted her face to the door of the tent. Hell be happy to hear it! What about you? Are you seeing anyone? Mike turned his head, raven hair clutching the pale skin of his skeletal face, lower jaw reaching down to swallow her head whole. His voice descended to a guttural growl. Or are you here all alone? Really? What else is new, Vertigern? Youve been making a fool of yourself since first we met. Probably long before that. Elayne, is she here? I dont know how long I can stand it. Thats something I plan on addressing with him before I leave Beaufort. Maxs jaw tightened as he rolled to the van. You called for backup. I want to know why you didnt get any. He turned and strode from the camp without so much as a backward glance. He had to. If he saw her cry, hed never forgive himself. Pickle? asks Sumaira, eyes widening. Youre mates? Shan rested his forehead against hers, drew in a breath. Pain danced across his face, tightening his brows. His eyes moved beneath his closed lids. And Jeren loved him, her heart blossoming again Okay, fine, said Samara. But please…any chance I could borrow a fiver until next week? She lifted the book. “Its one of the last ones I need. Been after it for ages.” Jerens legs gave out and the floor hit her hard, stealing her breath. The tattoo seared into her flesh all over again, like lines of fire writhing beneath the surface. But not too much for Lara, trying to convince the man she secretly loved to live. Do you know what youre asking? He sighed. You arent even Feyna. And where did you get the money, eh? You were begging me for a few quid this morning. Elaynes fingers flexed beside her own sword hilt. Beside Jeren, Lara stiffened, ready to attack. A Shistra-Phail at her back, albeit one as untried as herself, was a comfort. Strangely, she wasnt worried about the two men, but Elayne…well, Elayne was another matter. There was no doubting the dislike radiating from the armour-clad woman. It was palpable. Like all the Feyna, Ylandra was born not with magic she could use and manipulate, but there was magic there all the same. Not bornwith magic butof magic, that was what the elder stories said. Jeren said she saw it as a light. And the Enchassa was not just a mistress of manipulation and torture, she was a mistress of magic. Jeren ducked the blade by instinct, pitching herself to the ground only to roll upright again. With Shan held prisoner in River Holt, what choice did she have? If she rebelled against Gilliads whims, she doomed him. No big deal. Max washed. I dried. .