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Chapter Fifty-Nine

Rowan had been running through the woods and hills for hours. She stopped only to catch her breath, but as she made her way deeper into the northern territories of the mountains, she was all but exhausted. She could feel the cold sweat in her hair and the sting of the winter air in her throat with every breath she took.

Rowan was not sure if this was fate or irony. She knew the path she was taking up the mountainside well, for she had been through it years ago when the last of her family escaped the onslaught in Ravenna. Now she was heading back the same way to fight beside her brother and her people in the battle that would end where it all began.

As Rowan climbed to the peak of the snowy hills, she could not help but collapse to her hands and knees in exhaustion, dropping her spear into the snow. She could barely breathe; tears were forced out of her eyes by

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