The Sentinels When you come and break my heart, free my blood.

Lotte hummed, a deep and undulating alto that wove warmly through the spaces between Dagfinn’s words. “I remember,” she said softly. “We haven’t had a good run for far too long.” They hadn’t been together for far too long. Life had taken the twins in different directions, but that didn’t mean she didn’t think of Dagfinn every day — miss Dagfinn every day. “I am pledged to Donnelaith through the winter,” she sighed, forgetting that she’d already mentioned that, “but we are together now.” Bathing his face in kisses, Lotte gently eased away from her kaksonen. “We are together now, and we should run.” She liked the idea so much that she embellished it with meaning it didn’t need: “Away from our obligations and our troubles, away from our fears and away from moldy forests, we should run — come on, Dagfinn, please?” Her restless paws danced beneath her as she nipped teasingly at her twin.