I tipped forward, unused muscles along my shoulder blades twitching as wings slammed down on either side of me—wings with silver feathers tinged in dark gray and threaded with crimson. The fluttering of smaller wings came, flapping wildly as snow began to fall. I suddenly understood Aydun’s words about our union because something was rising from within me. It was a thing—a powerful thing that had always been there. Waiting. Watching. Caged. And it was cold. Unending. And it tasted of ruin and wrath.
