Azlynn’s P.O.V.

The door slammed open, revealing my fated headache’s furious figure. His growl thundered the room before I could even process his sudden arrival.

Xavion was supposed to be on the ground, completing the formalities after the match. How did he come here so soon?

Xavion’s eyes glowed gold, sharp with fury. His chest was heaving beneath his open shift where every muscle coiled tight. It was like he changed his clothes in a rush.

Glaring at Demrid, he snarled, racing my heart. “What the hell are you doing here, South King?”

Despite Xavion’s rage, Demird appeared calm, hands up in peace. “I am here for my daughter. Nothing...