Throne of Glass 7: World of Flames

Chapter 1

The wind howled as he flew past the trees. The snow capped mountains surrounding him casting eerie shadows on the forest below. The sun was sinking quickly behind the rocky horizon, tinging the sky pink. His wings aching in protest of every beat, every push. Cold air pushing him upwards, his dwindling magic helping to ease the current in his favour. Pain lanced through him as he came a little too close to a branch, silently cursing his lack of concentration. Yet he wouldn't, couldn't stop. Hunger tore at his empty stomach, raging at him to stop, to find shelter and food. His hawk begging him to stop, to take just an hour of rest. But there was work to be done. His wife to save. His queen, his Aelin had been taken from him. This beautiful, selfless soul had crashed into his life and he'd be damned if he let her go. Sworn by blood and bond to protect her, he pushed back the hunger, the exhaustion and forged on, for Meave was not one to wait. And Rowan Whitethorn-Galathynius knew better than most, that time could be cruel, but Meave was crueler.

What haunted him most were his nightmares. Just out of reach, he could see her broken, beautiful body splayed across the table as Meave tortured her. Iron knives with poisoned tips were used to carve into her silky skin, writing the same word over and over again. Nameless. He raged, screamed, cried out to her, but whatever force compelled him to keep watch kept him there. She sometimes cried out, her body convulsing as the poison dragged slowly though her veins. Her damp her was splayed around her as she cried out against the pain, her body betraying her as the sheer agony of the poison eat away at her very core. Meave let her shake and thrash, taking a moment to dip her dagger back into a jar of green death; as easy as a pen into ink. Each wound was red and swollen, infected and left to fester, to rot. His beautiful Fireheart left in the darkness.

Each nightmare was different but the end result was the same. Rowan either woke up crying, vomiting or sometimes both. A cold, lethal rage settled upon him as he shoved the emotion down. There was no time to drown in self pity, only to press on, and to get her back. She did not believe that they would come for her; that they would go on and leave her behind. Yet Rowan did not care if the rest of the world had to burn, so long as he could save this one flame. This one woman.

Rowan had slept a total of three hours in the past three days, eating enough just to stay alive. Deep down, he knew he would have to stop again or he would drop dead, but Aelin needed him, and that's all he could think about. He glanced a rabbit up ahead, his hawk's eyes catching every movement. He banked towards the rabbit, his claws opening to catch and kill. Yet as Rowan swooped in, a fox leaped out at the rabbit, catching it in its maw as it bound for another bush. Rowan caught the back of the fox, colliding in a tangle of animals. The fox dropped the rabbit in surprise. It sprinted away, living to see another day. Yet the fox rounded upon Rowan, bearing his teeth. Apparently not happy with letting its dinner go free. Rowan struck before the fox could react, killing him in a way no normal bird could manage. The fox was too heavy to carry, and Rowan to too tired to shift so Rowan ate as quickly as he could. Night was swiftly approaching and Rowan needed to sleep. As he filled his belly with the unfortunate fox, Rowan's mind flicked back to Aelin, his thoughts kon her constantly. How could he have been so blind to the mating bond, to the plans she hid so well. Why would she do this? Sacrificing herself again and again, never believing herself worthy of life. How had she come into his life, ruined and aching from sorrow, just to rise and become beautiful again, the Phoenix born again in the flames.

A howl in the distance ripped his attention back to the present, the note filling the air until similar ones joined. Rowan scanned the high trees around him, looking for a branch to rest upon. His wings barked in protest and he unfurled and shot back into the sky, heading away from the kill and into the taller trees. He picked a towering oak, the branches gnarled and think with age. As he settled in for another spot of rest, Rowan replayed again the moments of his wedding.