CHAPTER 373: CHAPTER-373.

Kaya walked over and stopped beside him.

"I’m sorry about earlier," she said quietly. "I shouldn’t have talked to you like that."

He blinked, then smiled, the expression softening the part of his face the streetlight could reach.

"It’s okay," he said. "I’m happy to help you. No matter what."

She let out a slow breath and sat down.

The shadow of her body fell across the table, cutting through the faint glow that slipped in from the window.

For a moment they didn’t talk.

The only things moving were the shadows on the walls, shifting slightly whenever someone or something passed outside and crossed under the streetlights.

Then Cutie spoke again.

"Veer went out with the money," he said. "He’s checking weapons for you. He took your knife to get it sharpened."

Kaya blinked, then huffed a small laugh.

She remembered the knife lying on the table earlier, the dull blade catching the afternoon light before she forgot about it.

"Good," she said. "Saves me the trouble."

Cutie chuckled, the sound low and warm.

Outside, one more streetlight blinked on, and the glow that came through the window grew a little stronger, throwing a clearer rectangle of light onto the floor while the corners of the room sank even deeper into darkness.

They started talking—about weapons, about how heavy she liked them, about how much they should spend.

Kaya lifted her hand when she spoke, and every time she did, the weak light caught on her fingers for a second before her hand moved back into shadow.

The pace of their words was slow, almost calm.

Each sentence had a little space between, filled by the faint noise from the street and the soft crack of the cooling wood.

Then, mid‑word, Kaya stopped.

Something felt off.

Outside, the streetlights made the world look calmer than it really was—soft yellow circles on stone, long black lines between them.

One of those moving shadows outside crossed in front of the window, just for a heartbeat, and the room seemed to darken for that same brief second.

At the exact moment the shadow passed, a dull, heavy sound came from above or nearby, too soft to be a proper crash, too strong to ignore.

The floor under Kaya’s boots caught a tiny vibration.

Her body reacted before her mind did.

She shoved the chair back, the legs scraping across the floor, and jumped sideways out of her spot.

The movement cut through the weak light, her shadow swinging across the wall in a sharp, fast swipe.

Bam.

A heavy brown shape slammed into the exact place where she had been standing a second before.

The impact shook the table; the empty cup rattled, rolled a little toward the edge, then stopped.

Dust puffed up from the floorboards and swirled in the strip of streetlight that fell through the window.

For a moment, everything froze.

The street outside kept going—voices, footsteps, a wheel turning—but inside the room, it felt like time had been cut into sharp little beats.

Kaya landed in a half‑crouch, one hand braced on the floor, breathing hard.

Her eyes snapped toward the thing that had fallen.

At first, in the uneven light, it looked like a twisted brown ball—wings, feathers, limbs all tangled, half in the glow from the street, half sunk into shadow.

Then the body shifted just a little, enough for the light from the nearest streetlamp to slide across the face.

Kaya’s stomach dropped.

It wasn’t just some random brown mass thrown inside.

It was Sparrow.

Kaya’s heart lurched up into her throat so fast it almost choked her.

Her eyelids trembled. For the first time in her life, it felt like her focus slipped—just a fraction, just a breath—but it was enough to scare her.

Sparrow lay on the floor in that strip of weak streetlight, his small body twisted and still. One wing was bent at a wrong angle, feathers stuck together with dirt and blood. He didn’t move. Didn’t twitch. From just one look, Kaya could already tell someone had beaten him badly—brutally. God knew if he was even alive.

The room smelled of dust, sweat, and a faint metallic tang from the blood drying on his feathers. The shadows around him seemed too long, too dark.

Kaya’s hands shook. Just a little. Not enough to stop her.

She forced her fingers to tighten, grabbed the nearest chair with her right hand, and yanked it up. The legs scraped over the floor with a harsh drag before it lifted free. The weight of the wood bit into her palm, her muscles straining as she swung it in front of her with everything she had.

Slam.

The sound was a deep, ugly *crack* of wood against flesh and bone. The chair smashed straight into a jackal beastman that had leapt toward Sparrow from the same direction he’d come flying in. The impact didn’t send him flying across the room, but it did knock him back a few steps, boots skidding on the floorboards.

The chair exploded in her grip—legs snapping, backrest splintering, pieces clattering across the ground in a rough scatter of wood and dust. The shock of it ran up Kaya’s arms, making her fingers sting.

The jackal beastman staggered, then forced himself up onto two legs again. A low snarl ripped from his throat as he lifted his hands to cover his face, ears flattened, eyes glaring at her through the gaps in his fingers.

Kaya glared at the jackal beastman, chest still heaving, splinters of the broken chair biting into her palm. [8]

He glared right back, lips curling, yellow eyes burning in the half‑light. [8]

Then his body shifted. [8]

Bones cracked softly, fur pulling back, limbs slimming as he straightened up. [8]

In a few breaths he stood there in his human form—tall, lean, ears still sharp on his head, tail twitching with anger—eyes locked on Kaya like she was prey. [8]

"Give me that Sparrow," he said, voice low and haughty, like he was giving an order, not making a request. [8]