Chapter 14 · Fall To Fly

"Get these damn wings under control or I'll cut them off myself!" Lyra's voice was a jagged edge, her blade still pressing deep into the soft skin of my throat.

I choked out a laugh, though it sounded more like a wheeze. "Do you think I'm doing this for fun? They're... they're moving on their own!"

I wasn't lying. The black wings weren't just appendages; they felt like living parasites grafted to my spine. Every time I tried to fold them, they snapped open with a violent, rhythmic pulse, sending ripples of dark energy into the stagnant air. And the light—that blinding, cursed light—was still screaming toward the sky, a beacon for every monster within ten miles.

"Stop fighting me," Lyra hissed. She stepped closer, her chest nearly brushing mine. I could smell the sharp metallic scent of her armor and something else—something like crushed jasmine and old blood. "If Gromm's hounds find us because you can't figure out how to be a bird, I'm leaving you behind. I'll carve the mark out of your back and sell it to the highest bidder."

"You're real charming today," I snapped, trying to shift my weight.

One wrong move.