That wasn’t what I meant to say.
His eyebrows rose slightly. He glanced down at his arm, as if he’d forgotten about the wound.
“It’s nothing. A vine got me on the way here.”
“It doesn’t look like nothing.” The words came easier now, riding the familiar current of concern. Injuries she understood. Injuries she could treat. “There are thorn-covered vines in the jungle. Their wounds can become infected if not properly cleaned.”
“I’ll be fine. Vultor heal quickly.”
“That doesn’t mean you should ignore it.” She heard the note of stubbornness in her own voice and almost laughed. Here she was, lecturing a complete stranger about wound care when she should be running for her life.
ARIS’s voice cut through the moment. “Liora, I must insist that you do not allow the intruder inside. His presence represents a significant security risk.”
His eyes flickered towards the ceiling, tracking the source of the sound. “You have an AI.”
“That’s Ari. I mean, ARIS. It... manages the tower.”
“And it doesn’t seem to like me.”
“The Vultor have a documented history of violent behavior,” ARIS said. “My protocols require me to protect Liora from potential threats.”
Something shifted in his expression. “I understand,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “I know what most humans think of my kind, although it is no more accurate than how most Vultorregard humans. However, I promise you, I’m not here to cause harm.”
He looked at her as he said it, his green eyes steady and serious. There was no deception in his gaze, no hidden threat. Just a simple statement of intent, offered freely.
He’s telling the truth, she thought. She had no experience with lies or liars, but something in her gut told her this male could be trusted.
“You should come inside,” she heard herself say. “I can treat your arm properly.”
“Liora—”
“It’s my decision, Ari.” She lifted her chin, surprised by her own boldness. “He’s injured, he’s traveled a long way, and I’m not going to leave him standing on the balcony.”
ARIS was silent for a long moment. When it spoke again, its voice held a note she’d never heard before—something almost like resignation.
“Very well. But I will be monitoring the situation closely. Any sign of hostile intent and I will activate the tower’s defensive systems.”
“Understood,” he said, but he was looking at her. “Thank you. I know this is... unusual.”
Unusual. She almost laughed. Unusual didn’t begin to cover it.
She stepped back from the window, gesturing for him to follow. “This way.”
He followed her into the kitchen, taking in the room with quick, assessing glances. She suddenly saw it through his eyes—thewarm wood surfaces, the herbs hanging from the ceiling, the open shelves displaying her collection of handmade ceramics. The small table with the single chair. It was a space designed for comfort and solitude, and now it seemed impossibly intimate with him standing in it.
“You live here alone?”
“Yes.” She moved towards the storage cabinet where she kept her medical supplies. “Just me and Pip. And Ari, I suppose.”
“Pip?”
As if summoned by the mention of his name, a small silver-gray blur launched itself from the top of a cabinet and landed on her shoulder. Pip puffed up to twice his normal size, his luminous eyes fixed on the intruder with unmistakable hostility. A high-pitched chittering erupted from his throat—a warning sound that she had only heard a handful of times before.
“Pip!” She reached up to stroke his fur, trying to calm him. “It’s okay. He’s safe.”
The little glider was having none of it. He continued his aggressive display, his feathered tail lashing back and forth.
Baylin had gone very still, watching the interaction with interest. “What is he?”
