Claimed by my Sister's Fiancé
The supernatural heat that had baked our faces on the dais was gone, replaced by the bitter, shivering reality of an autumn morning in the Scottish borders.
"They'll listen to Alistair," Cormac said. His long strides kept him effortlessly abreast of me, the low thud of his boots rhythmic against the gravel. Even running full tilt, his hand hovered near his sword hilt, eyes sweeping the shifting shadows of the ferns. "He gave the order. He can rescind it."
"If they believe an ancient hunger possessed their commander for three days, maybe," Alistair said grimly.