The wind whipped past them as the ground shrank away. Kaya stared downward, expression unreadable, calm even at this height. She was already used to soaring with him—he couldn't frighten her with altitude anymore.
"What were you doing so long inside?" Veer's voice was rough, strained, almost accusing. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?"
Kaya's eyes stayed fixed on the horizon, her face stone-hard. "And who the hell told you to march into a tribe without even speaking to me first?"
Veer blinked, taken aback. "I thought you were sick—"
"So if I don't talk to you for a while, you decide I'm sick?" Kaya snapped, finally turning her gaze on him, her voice laced with ice. "And not just sick—you said I was about to die? Are you insane?"
Veer looked at her helplessly.
"How would I know? I just thought… maybe you were going to die. People change when they're near death, don't they?"
