The three hunters didn't wait for permission to flee.
The moment Hyrin's attention wavered—the moment his blazing eyes left them to focus on Wish—they ran. The man stumbled, his broken arm hanging uselessly, his anchors half-dragging him as they crashed through the underbrush.
Their panicked footsteps faded quickly into the distance, swallowed by the forest's crimson darkness.
Wish barely noticed them go.
All her focus was on the massive silver lion standing before her, his sides heaving, blood matting his beautiful fur. His wings trembled with barely contained violence. His tail lashed erratically behind him.
But his eyes—those wild, manic eyes—were fixed on her.
"Hyrin," she whispered, taking a small step forward. "Please. Come back to me."
A low growl rumbled through his chest. Warning or plea, she couldn't tell.
