Page 92 of Why Broken Wings Fray

It was shock. Possibly. This strange haze that took over me and left me staring absently at the corner of my room? Yeah, likely shock. Or just general confusion as to what the shit happened to such a wonderful night.

I knew what had happened to a wonderful night. It was the same thing that always happened.

Raegan.

I wanted to be furious at him, yet again, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Not because he was Raegan and I was a blubbering fool when it came to him, simply because I was too shocked to do or say anything. So in that odd pool of confusion, I walked over to the paned-walls, sat myself down at the one that overlooked the grassy-meadows the best, and leaned against the cold glass.

I nearly screamed when a grey blur flew past, a parrot of silver feathers and red tail stopping itself just short of flying directly into the glass.

“Urram?”

His voice was muffled behind the pane, but it was still grating and demanding enough to somewhat make out his words. “What – and then you – we need – soon.”

I cocked a brow as I pushed away from the wall, trying my best to convey that there was no way I would understand a single sentence from his beak.

“Why must – always when I – can’t you – stop looking at – CAW!”

The caw was less a word and more of an agitated noise as he rammed his little body against the glass. The pane didn’t even register a hit, remaining solid and unimpressed with his attempt.

“That’s really not going to work– Urram, no!”

He transformed, his feathers stretching, rounding, and sharpening until they were scales of molten silver placed chaotically across a body of leathery hide, his wings wide and flapping as he tried to maintain the hovering that taking to such a size demanded.

“Don’t you dare!”

He dared.

Urram, grey eyes narrowed, slitted-pupil as sharp as a blade, parted his mouth ever so slightly, ducked his head, and flew at the glass.

I was left screaming as the room exploded with shards of it, tiny weaponized pieces of shrapnel that flew in every direction. A few actually managed to make contact with my skin, sliding along my arms and one pricking at the highest peak of my cheek.

“Come, Little,” Urram bellowed, his voice renewed and thrice as powerful as it took form on a slithering tongue. “We are leaving. Before the King destroys Saoghal once and for all and takes you with him.”

I remained sitting, my knees to my chest, my head still burrowed in my lap as the adrenaline of somehow surviving the shattering of my wall leaked away.

“Move quickly, Olivia. The guards will be wanting to investigate the noise, soon–”

“You are going to help me with something, Urram,” I declared as I lifted my head from that position, a new plan taking form in my otherwise scrambled mind.

One of the scales above Urram’s eyes twitched as if he was capable of cocking a brow.

“We’re not leaving.”

“Little–”

“You’re going to take me to the dungeons.”

“I will not–”

“You will take me to the dungeons or I will throw myself off the height of your back.”

“I will just catch you,” Urram huffed. “Your threats are empty and pathetic.”

I glared at him and he glared at me.

I, a small human reduced even smaller to a pixie, blonde hair waving in the subtle breeze that plagued my room thanks to Urram. And Urram, the thousands upon thousands of pounds of pure muscle, scales, and hide, wings still fluttering, smoke blowing from his nose.

One of these days I would need a reality check, but it wasn’t today as Urram growled, coughed out an ember, and let his head fall heavy. “Fine. Get on.”