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“Eirah?” Morozko whispered, stepping toward her.
I don’t know what your blood did to me now. Butlookat me. Turn me back!
“I heard you,” Morozko said in awe, lowering himself to the mattress. He motioned to Kusav. “Stand guard unless I call for you.”
Kusav nodded and left them alone together in the room.
Eirah’s eyes met the king’s, her breaths uneven.I don’t understand how you can hear me.
“I don’t know, either, but tell me. Explain what happened.”
She then told him how she’d been working on the music box and how the tingling sensation had come out of nowhere, how earlier she’d felt something stir when he’d touched her.
“I felt that, too.” He bit his lip.
Bring me a mirror. She needed to see herself, see what she’d become.
“Such a vain little bird.” He chuckled.
Morozko must have heard the growl she made toward him inside her head because he grabbed one from inside the drawer by her bed and held the silver oval mirror up to her.
Eirah blinked at her reflection, fighting back a scream that threatened to escape her beak as she studied herself. She wasn’t just any bird—she was a barn owl, similar to Adair—she could almost pass as his twin despite her smaller and narrower form.
This wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for Morozko’s blood.Change me back.
“Don’t look at me as though this is my fault. My magic doesn’t turn maidens into animals.”
Do something! Fear coursed through her. What if she remained a bird for the rest of her life? However short that life may be. She wouldn’t even be able to lift her carving tools to finish the music box. Instead, she would sit here and wait to die while doing nothing. If she could, she would shrink the king and trap him in the music box!
A swirl of blue left Morozko’s fingertips, tickling her flesh, caressing, but nothing happened besides her remaining an owl.
“You’re coming with me.” As always, he didn’t wait for a reply while lifting her into his arms and striding out the door. “Inform Xezu to come to me immediately,” he instructed Kusav.
Eirah remained quiet as the king carried her down the hallway. Various wood carvings stood out on the walls, and as Morozko turned to toe a door open, she could only assume it was his room. Glass animals hung across his walls, a large pale blue wardrobe rested in the corner, and deep blue fur blankets lay on his massive bed. A writing desk, neatly kept, was pressed against another wall beside a lit fireplace.
Heavy footsteps sounded, and Xezu rushed in, running a hand through his dark hair.
“She’s an owl,” Morozko said, a deep line settled between his brows.
Xezu studied Eirah as he stroked his chin. “I assume your magic didn’t work to change her back?”
“I tried, but no, it didn’t.”
Perhaps you should try harder, Eirah thought bitterly.
“I know my magic.” He frowned.
“You can hear her?” Xezu asked.
“Yes, and be grateful you can’t.” Eirah went to peck him at his irritating response, but he easily moved his hand away from her.
Xezu shook his head, daring to roll his eyes at the latter comment. “With frost shifters, they generally change on their own. Perhaps she needs to will it.”
“She’s not a frost shifter, though. She’shuman.” Morozko rested Eirah on the bed and she continued to listen to their conversation as her heart knocked against her rib cage.
“It had to be your blood that triggered something.”
Just as I said, Eirah sang.
