Azura's POV
The suffocating atmosphere of the grand meeting room had become entirely too much to bear.
My skin felt tight, and my lungs were practically begging for a single draft of clean, cold air that wasn't heavy with the scent of ancient bloodlines, buried secrets, and the territorial posturing of powerful men.
I needed space. I needed a completely isolated room where no one could look at me, analyze my expressions, or attempt to dissect the newfound magic humming violently beneath my skin.
When I flatly demanded a private sanctuary, the Dragon King lifted a dark, skeptical eyebrow, his jaw tightening as if he were about to deny the request out of sheer spite.
But Liona didn't give him the chance.
She stepped directly into his line of sight, fixing him with a ferocious, burning glare that could have melted stone until he finally threw his hands up in a silent gesture of surrender.
