"Amara! Hey, over here! Let's go!"
Pearl's bright voice echoed down from the middle tiers of the Grand Amphitheater, cutting through the loud hum of hundreds of students packing up their parchment and books as the professor in charge finally dismissed the joint lecture.
I immediately gathered my notebooks and pushed back my chair, desperate to escape the suffocating aura of the front row and get back to safety. I took a single step up toward the aisle—and stopped dead.
A firm hand had shot out, fingers clamping tightly around my wrist.
Xavier remained comfortably seated, his dark blue uniform coat resting unwrinkled against the high velvet chair. He didn't even look up at me at first, his grip an iron band holding me anchored to the spot. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his head toward the stairs where my friends were standing, a smooth, polished smile spreading across his face.
