AZALEA'S POV
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The ajar window has a cool breeze swirling in and out of the study, the night sky covered in dark grey clouds. Lyra calls them balls of fluff, and I just don't get it. It's easier to say clouds. I watch the old clock sitting on the mantel above the fireplace strike nine pm sharp, and my phone rings on cue. I stare at the screen, somewhat excited, somewhat horrified that I'm excited about Corbin calling, but I answer none the less.
"Ashthorn." I drop his last name in a bland tone, "Now you get my surname right?" Corbin taunts. "I always prefer Ashy," I shrug, feeling stupid because he can't even see. "Morvain, you don't need to use my last name." He sighs, but I didn't expect what he was about to say next, "If you want it, take it." It feels like the chair is ripped out f
