35
Myla
The next morning, I awaken to the sound of voices below our prison egg. I’m still cuddled with my back to Lincoln’s chest. He gently kisses my head.
“Sleep well?” he asks.
“Surprisingly. You’re very comfy.”
“Thank you.”
“Have you been up for a while?”
“A few minutes.”
I shift so I can stretch my legs and look at the scene below. King Zoar stands beneath our prison egg. About a dozen Avian men surround him.
Yawning, I try to recall details from yesterday. It isn’t easy. Mornings aren’t my thing.
“What did Hector say again?” I ask. “They’re holding a morning breakfast, right?”
“I believe Hector said it was a morning nesting.”
“Grr. I was really hoping for food.” Lincoln opens his mouth, I hold up my finger. “And if you’re about to make another speech about Demon Bars, for
