Azrael's POV
*****
6:30pm, Blood Oak Academy.
A sudden shift in the atmosphere made him raise his head from the glass of wine he turned for himself.
For some minutes now thunderclouds had been gathering with no signs of rain. The storm's epicentre was right above the Crimson Expanse—which made him pause. And watch.
"What is happening back there?" He whispered, staring into the evening sky while taking a sip from his wine.
Why was he back here? Simple.
He had no business watching the Blood Trials. He shouldn't even be in this hell-forsaken academy, intermingling with mortal adolescents anyway.
And most of all... He couldn't bear being around her. Not after the High One's psychic warning earlier today.
Telling him he's straying from his purpose has to be the biggest insult he's heard in his immortal life. For centuries he's given up loyalty. Emotions. Time. His everything, all to serve the High One.
