But still, he stayed. Not because he didn't want to search the palace. He'd already done that. Hours ago, before she'd even returned to the room. He already knew where Shelia was.
He just hadn't told her.
Not because he was hiding it from her—but because he knew what would happen if he did. She'd throw off the blanket, put her slippers back on, and rush back into danger without thinking twice. She'd already done enough for everyone else today. She'd carried too much, too quickly.
It was time for someone else to carry her.
Without making a sound, Cyrus shifted to the far wall, his silhouette melting into the low shadows. His body stretched and shimmered in the dark, bones snapping silently as he transformed—pale skin folding into red scales, limbs lengthening until he became a massive, coiled serpent, his body lined with faint glimmers of pink.
The transformation was fluid, silent—second nature.
