Roy’s POV
A bird. It was silver, fluttering just above us, and aware of the pointlessness of trying to outrun the shapeshifting creature, I finally came to a complete halt.
“Roy.” Hushed, just a whisper—I could feel that Gigi was scared but I wasn’t in a position to ease her mind. “I think we lost it.”
As if to spite my fated, the bird landed on a branch right above her head.
I felt the moment Gigi saw it, her nails biting into the skin of my side.
Staring up at the bird, I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Faeries don’t typically interact with us. Not elves, not shifters, and especially not humans—just animals as far as we knew.
“Roy.” She tugged at my shirt.
I couldn’t look down, not with the bird standing there motionlessly watching us.
“It’s asking my name,” she whispered.
What
