Chapter 5

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Dorian had underestimated the Queen of Terrasen for the keys around his neck was the only thing on his mind all day. The otherworldly power too much for him to comprehend.

It had been five months without his best friend, Aelin. Five months of carrying the Wyrdkeys, and Dorian didn't know how much longer he could do it.
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"What does it feel like?" Manon said.

Dorian looked up from staring at the fire in front of them.

"What?" He said, looking into her eyes. They're so golden. He thought to himself.

"Being king, holding the keys," She threw more wood into the fire.

"I'm yet to decide if it's an honor or a burden."

She didn't have to reply to that, Dorian figured she knew exactly what he meant.

For a few minutes the only sound between them was the crackling of the fire.

"Do you think she'll come back?" Dorian said looking at the Eye of Elena, twisting it over in his fingers.

"Rowan won't come back without her. I've seen the love they have for each other, nothing will separate them, I don't even think Death will." Something twitched in Manon's jaw as she said that.

Dorian turned back to her, bringing a finger to her chin. He didn't know why, but he had a sudden urge just to touch that snowy skin of hers. Manon's breathing hitched. But just as she brought her iron tipped fingers to his hair, she heard her wyvern roaring by the creek.

"Buzzkill," she whispered towards the flower sniffer. Dorian flashed her a grin as she walked towards Abraxos.

For a while she sat by the creek caressing her wyvern while Dorian sat by the fire, they had their first meeting with the Crochans three weeks ago. The meeting was only with the Witch council, but they are yet to meet the high witches as there is no queen other than Manon.

"Dorian," Manon said from the creek.

"What?" He kept staring at the fire.

"Do you hear that?" Indeed, there was a faint rustling noise, not one from nature, but one from footsteps. Dorian immediately stood up, sheathing his sword, Manon's Wind-Cleaver already in her hands.

"Search from the air," She told her wyvern.

Dorian's magic was already prowling the lands for any threat. Dorian stumbled on something familiar, not an object but a feeling. His magic reeling back as he gritted his teeth.

"What is it?" She snarled, the iron teeth gleaming.

Dorian didn't have the strength to answer though as this feeling was something that still creeped into his head in the middle of the night. He knew the scent as he killed hundreds of these.

"Dorian," Manon inched closer to him.

His eyes shot up at her, he opened his mouth to speak.

But before a word could be said, the King of Adarlan was knocked out.

By the hands of an Ilken.


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