Three days had passed, and a few of Azrael's soldiers had journeyed to the borders to execute their plans. It would take them two days to reach their destination, leaving Azrael with nothing but hope and prayer that everything would unfold as intended.
He sipped wine from his goblet, his gaze fixed on Elysia as she prepared for bed. Her white nightdress flowed gracefully down her figure, her hair cascading over her shoulders in soft waves. A slow smile spread across his lips. Azrael had never imagined himself capable of loving anyone the way he loved Elysia.
