Rohan sat on the windswept hill, the sun burning his eyes as the shadow of the Dragonscale mountains darkened his lands.
It was her birthday, their birthday, but she would never see another.
Because they had taken her. Stolen her life when she had seen so few summers. Far too few summers.
Her birth had been auspicious. Should have ended the never-ending war.
But they didn’t want peace. Didn’t want her.
He clenched his hands into fists.
If war is what they wanted, war is what he would give them.
He clenched his hands into fists.
If war is what they wanted, war is what he would give them.