{Casper’s POV}

My arms were crossed as I waited tirelessly for him. My boot tapped a restless rhythm against the ground. The afternoon air still has that sharp bite to it crisp and pure, with the aroma of pine and wet soil still sticking from the morning's dew.

The birds were chirping, but their songs couldn’t cool off the storm fuming inside me.

He was late.

Very unlike him.

Aurelius was a lot of things. From cold and calculated, to meticulous and ruthless, but he was never late.

I ...