Isabella sits motionless in her classroom, her fingers drumming lightly against the polished surface of her desk, her expression a mask of simmering rage. Around her, the school buzzes with the aftermath of the earlier chaos—the fire alarm has sent students into a frenzy, but now the initial excitement is fading. None of it matters to Isabella. The world outside her seething thoughts is insignificant. Her mind is fixated on a singular purpose: revenge.
She replays the events of yesterday, the sting of betrayal carving deeper into her heart with each recollection. Damon had dared to strike her—to slap her—over that wretched half-breed. The memory of it is a scorching brand against her pride. Her blood burns with indignation, her magic simmering just beneath the surface, aching for release.
