SCARLET OMEGA’S POV
That belief lasted exactly until I turned the corner toward my dormitory and found Ivy waiting there, arms crossed, her expression carved from something colder than the autumn air settling over campus.
"Quite the little fan club you've built." Her voice carried none of the lazy contempt she usually wore like perfume. This was sharper, more calculated, the tone of someone recalculating a strategy that had stopped working. "Tutoring sessions. Murals. Little Marcus and Wren following you around like you're some kind of saint."
"I don't know what you want me to say to that." I kept my voice level, refusing to give her the flinch she was clearly hunting for. "I like helping people. That's not a strategy, Ivy. It's just who I am."
"It doesn't matter what it is." She push
