"I will not say it again," Veer said, his voice dropping to a lethal, rumbling whisper. "Fold your wings, Father. You are threatening my wife in her own territory."
The elder Vulture stared at his son, his chest heaving with rage. For a long, agonizing moment, Kaya genuinely thought the two of them were going to tear each other apart right there in the courtyard. The tension was a living, breathing thing. But slowly, with agonizing reluctance, the older man's massive obsidian wings folded inward, shrinking and shifting until they disappeared entirely into his broad back.
"You call this hairless ape your wife," the father spat, though the immediate threat of violence had passed. He gestured toward Kaya with absolute disgust. "You, the Chief of the Vulture Tribe, the fastest predator in the skies, have bound yourself to a creature that cannot even survive a winter without a fire. The elders are in an uproar, Veer. They think you have lost your mind."
