She looked at him. “How do you know?”
“Two hundred years.” He didn’t elaborate. Didn’t have to.
We stayed there until dawn. The three of us. Learning to be a family in the small hours, one nightmare at a time.
The next night, I woke with my shoulder blades on fire.
Not literally. But something was happening beneath the skin, a deep, persistent itch that no amount of scratching could reach. I’d felt it building for days.
I slipped out of the nest and padded to the washroom. The mirror was small, spotted with age, but I managed to angle myself enough to see my back.
Nothing visible. Just skin, unmarked and ordinary.
But the itch persisted. Deep beneath the surface. Like something was trying to push its way out.
“Wren?”
Tavrin appeared in the doorway, wings folded tight to fit through the frame.
“I’m fine. Just an itch.”
He crossed to me in two strides. Turned me gently. I felt him go still.
“Tavrin?”
“It’s starting.” His voice was soft. Wondering. His fingers traced a line down my spine. “The wings. I can feel them forming. Just beneath the surface.”
“Already?”
“The bond is strong.” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder blade, right where the itch was worst. “Your body is responding faster than I expected.”
“Will it hurt? When they come through?”
“Yes.” He didn’t lie to me. I loved that he didn’t lie. “But I’ll be here. And after...” He wrapped his arms around me, pulled me back against his chest. “After, I’ll teach you to fly.”
I let myself imagine it. The two of us, soaring over the mountains. The wind in my face. The world spread out below.
Something to look forward to. Something to grow toward.
I was changing. Becoming something new.
And for the first time since I was sixteen, I wasn’t afraid of what I might become.
The Academy letters came a month later. Full enrollment for the spring term.
“We’ll miss you,” I told her.
“It’s only a few hours’ flight.” She smiled. “For some of us.”
The words landed with a strange weight. Because soon I would be one of them. The itch between my shoulder blades pulsed, a reminder of what was coming.
Tavrin had flown down to speak with the headmistress himself. Had returned with enrollment papers and a fierce satisfaction that he’d been able to give her this.
I found Elspeth on the balcony at sunset, wrapped in one of Tavrin’s old cloaks.
“Are you happy?” she asked. “Really happy?”
The question caught me off guard. I turned to look at her, this sister I’d left behind and fought to retrieve, this girl who was becoming a woman in front of my eyes.
