She could barely even stand upright. When Daphne caught sight of Zephyr on the bed, her knees felt weak and she would've collapsed right onto the floor if it weren't for Atticus, who caught her just in the nick of time.
Instead of a man sleeping in bed, in his place was a griffin, snoozing peacefully with its eyes closed. Daphne didn't know whether to laugh or to cry― for one thing, she hadn't seen Zephyr sleep so peacefully ever since he had fallen sick; for another, it had been a long time since he had been in his griffin form.
"What happened?" Daphne asked, her voice quaking.
With Atticus's help, she stumbled and wobbled over to Zephyr's bedside. Her fingers hovered over Zephyr's sleeping body, too afraid to touch his feathers. She was terrified, fearing that he might disappear or shatter upon contact. Or perhaps, he would wake up and forget all about her.
