Regret

Right, an owl.

Not just any owl, though—no.

It wasn't the type Malik saw in those merchant caravans.

This one was massive, its shadow doing it a disservice.

It easily dwarfed them all with its frame, its eye as big as he was tall.

Its feathers shimmered like metal, rich crimson with streaks of white around its beak and its horn-like plumicorns.

The owl was regal in a way he couldn't quite describe.

As if it belonged in some divine palace, not the wilds.

Its eyes were the most unsettling part—huge, unblinking, and bright pink.

It tilted its head, its gaze sweeping over them with a curiosity that felt almost human.

Safira clutched Jasmine's arm.

"What the hell is that?!"

Neither of them answered.

Malik's hand stayed on his shamshir, but he didn't draw it.

The owl let out a soft hoot and then, with a slow flap of its massive wings...

Whoosh!