I sat up a little straighter before I could stop myself, heat rushing to my ears.
Beside me, I felt Freya tense, subtle, but noticeable, like her body had just gone on high alert. Her hand shifted under the desk, and I didn't have to look to know she was gripping her pen like it might double as a weapon.
He moved with steps full of confidence. Leather jacket shifting with every step, hands deep in his pockets.
He wasn't looking left or right. Just at me.
Morrigan stirred. He knows you.
I ignored her, even though the back of my neck prickled.
He reached my row and slid into the empty desk beside me.
The smell hit me first, a warm, spicy scent with a sharp edge lurking beneath it.
Something metallic, like iron or blood that'd been scrubbed away but still hung in the air, stubborn.
And yet… there was more to it.
A thin veil of normalcy draped over it, like someone had tried to disguise the whole thing as harmless.
