The sparrow had been too stunned by the stupidity to even be properly afraid, for a moment. Then he'd remembered the beatings, the humiliation, the way the vultures laughed at the small, useless bird in their cage, and fear had come back twice as strong.
He'd planned to escape. He had no wish to die.
He remembered the day it changed, claw tips digging into the stone now as he thought of it.
The fight between vultures. The prince showing off. The way the air had felt wrong, charged.
And then 'her'.
The strange female.
He still remembered the first time he saw Kaya—how she'd stood there, looking at the vulture prince. There had been hatred in her eyes, yes, but not the clean kind you aim at an enemy. It was messier. Like she hated him for existing in her path. For being one more thing she had to deal with.
