It’s a cape, I realise, as my numb hands curl into fists around the soft material.
“Bree,” I murmur. “Are you…?”
“I’m fine,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “But I don’t think you need my help anymore.”
I’m about to open my mouth—although I have no idea what to say—when he strides from the room and drops from the edge of the garden.
I rush forward, a scream building in my throat for a second before I remember he has wings.
Sure enough, his dark shape soars up and away from the palace a second later. He covers the distance so fast that soon he’s little more than a speck on the horizon. Leaving me alone in the garden, still clutching the cape and breathing heavily.
Oh hell. What have I done?