OF BLOOD AND LEGENDS
Azaria’s POV
The moon light had gone down on my body and piled on my flesh like a secret.
I was crouched up under the arch of my balcony, with my knees drawn up to my breast, the wind playing with the links of my hair. Below, the forest whispered. Above, the stars blinked with the kind of ancient knowing that made me feel both seen and utterly small.
Everything inside me was spiraling.
The pulse in my palms. The sparks in my blood. The burned flower. The prophecy in Nicholas’ eyes when he told me he saw my magic that day in the cafeteria—as if that moment rewrote everything he believed about fate and us.
I should have felt empowered.
Instead, I felt like a ticking time bomb.
And time… it was running out.
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By morning, I knew what I had to do.
I discovered my father in the garden of the courtyard-after training he always came here. By this time the old stone bench under the willow tree had almost grown to fit his body.
I came near him, whereupon he arose and look
