Azura's POV
I pressed my palm flat against my stomach, a sharp, white-hot flash of agony shooting straight through my core at the slightest touch.
The breath rattled uncomfortably in my lungs as I forced my head to turn to the side, trying to blink away the dark spots dancing across my vision.
The fake Isadora was standing directly over me.
She loomed like a shadow against the daylight, her fingers wrapped tightly around a massive, heavy staff with thick iron tips capping both ends.
She shifted her grip, the heavy metal catching the sun as she prepared to bring it down on me again.
I forced myself to move from the spot and look past her, searching the grassy clearing for Torin.
My heart sank into my throat. He was actively fighting Amanda, but something was wrong with the entire picture.
Amanda was winning the exchange.
Her physical movements were incredibly fast, almost a blur against the trees, and her strikes carried a terrifying amount of strength.
