Arkai's eyes rolled up into his skull as he gripped the armrests of the co-pilot seat, his jaw clenched so tight his fangs ached. The helicopter had banked, dropped, and spiraled in ways that defied every law of aviation he had ever learned.
Eastiel, meanwhile, piloted the thing like an action movie protagonist, one hand on the collective, one hand on the cyclic, his lion tail wrapped around the seat strut for balance, his golden eyes blazing in madness.
"JUST BECause…" Arkai spat and quickly controlled his voice, "Just because you spent a summer learning to fly at fourteen, that doesn't make you an immortal, you crazy—"
"Ah, we need to quickly catch up with Cecilia!" Eastiel spat back.
The helicopter touched down with a jarring thud that rattled every bolt in the frame.
