Leaving didn't take hours—it took seconds.
As soon as Kaya stepped out of her room with her bag slung across her shoulder, Veer was already there, waiting. Without a word, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. His grip was firm, almost too firm, like he feared she might vanish if he let go.
The next thing she knew, they were outside, the cool mountain air biting against her skin. Veer glanced down at her legs, his tone unusually soft yet urgent.
"If you dangle too much, it'll hurt. Sit on me when I change."
Kaya tilted her head at him, suspicious at the sudden consideration, but she simply nodded. "Okay."
He blinked once. His eyes flared, molten amber, glowing brighter than she had ever seen. Then his body stretched, bones reshaping, feathers bursting outward in a rush of sound. In heartbeats, the man she knew was gone, replaced by the massive vulture that towered over her.
