Aurelia’s POV
“Oh, you’ve got to be joking.”
Sierra’s voice pierces the hall like a knife, sharp and drizzled in venom. She strides toward us, her heels clicking on the tiled floor with every step. Drake lags behind her, with his jaw locked so tight it looks painful.
I go rigid under Julian’s arm, which is still slung casually around my shoulders. He doesn’t budge, but I feel the subtle shift in his energy — like a predator sizing up its prey.
“Julian,” Sierra says, halting right in front of us. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He fakes innocence, raising one eyebrow. “Walking my girlfriend to class. What does it look like?”
Her face contorts into something unrecognizable, equal parts disbelief and rage. “This is no longer a joke, Julian. You’re just embarrassing yourself —
