Waybound (Cradle Book 12)

He was the powerful, all-but-immortal Incarnation standing tall after a harsh battle. He was the menace, looming over a weary swordsman who kept his blade raised in futile defiance. He was the uncaring master, carelessly discarding minions by the score, their bodies strewn all over the street. He was the traitor who had beaten Simon bloody for tryi

A tide that Yerin was sure she’d soon join. Her Blood Shadow, the parasite that had infested her as a girl, was struggling to take over. To heed the song of the Phoenix and break free. It was taking all of her mind and spirit, all of her willpower, to restrain it. Lindon leaned over her, his face soft with concern. He told her to fight. Told her he

Lindon swept at his eyes, drawing pure madra, trying to keep his emotions under control. Orthos extended his head, resting his forehead against Lindon’s. “A dragon is not ashamed of tears,” Orthos said. And Lindon lost control. He threw his arms around Orthos’ neck and wept with Little Blue, as Dross drifted silently overhead.

Each halo of the Silent King was scaled to the spirit of the one it affected, so Lindon was indeed benefiting from a feast of powerful energy. His spirit and his body were both growing at a terrifying rate; his muscles were suffused with life and blood essence, his cores were swollen with power, and soulfire burned in him like a silver sun. Dross s