Stolas insisted on flying us back home, which shortened our trip considerably since it took us in a straight line from the colony to his house. He refused to allow me to ride in the saddle, however, and with my recent weight gain, I wasn’t sure how comfortable that would have been anyway. Instead, he carried me in what I liked to call his ‘Angelic’ form, a winged humanoid shape. Sometimes he was as snowy white as the owl, sometimes dark as the Raven, maintaining human arms to hold me against his chest, where I often snoozed, feeling the powerful muscles play beneath my cheek.
We mostly avoided further trouble, though one night I woke to Stolas’ low growling voice as he clutched me to him. He ripped my shirt from my left shoulder, and the area around me lit with a glow. I heard the sn
