Zara’s POV
The cafeteria was louder than usual that morning, or maybe it was just me. Every scrape of a chair against tile, every burst of laughter, every clatter of trays seemed to sink claws into the side of my head. The noise didn’t just echo—it pressed in.
And still, I walked in with Zarek beside me.
His shoulder brushed mine like he owned the air between us, eyes scanning lazily over the tables as if he could pick out every whisper before it was spoken. Me? I kept my head high. My spine locked. I refused to let them see me fold, not after last night.
It was almost funny, the way conversations dipped as we walked past. Like the room itself inhaled and forgot how to breathe. Eyes trailed me—some sharp, some wary, some dripping venom.. And after the things I’d thrown into the fire ci
