Azura's POV
I stood silently at the very edge of the stone courtyard, my arms wrapped tightly over my chest as I watched everyone bustle around, finalizing the bags.
A few yards away, Torin was lounging casually on a long stone bench near the center fountain, his exceptionally long legs stretched straight out in front of him.
His messy brown hair kept falling across his eyes in the wind, but he didn't bother to brush it away.
Near the front carriage stood Genevieve.
She was standing close to her son, her slender hand resting gently on his thick forearm as she spoke to him in a low, incredibly soft voice.
Rhydor nodded his head slowly, pretending to listen to her words, but his sharp amber eyes were completely fixed on something else across the yard.
He was staring directly at me.
The moment our eyes met, a sudden, hot flash of panic flared up in my chest, and I quickly looked away, forcing my gaze down to the gravel beneath my boots.
