Bethel's Pov
warning hung in the air between us, heavy and unspoken, as we reached the lecture hall. Ella gave my hand a brief, reassuring squeeze before slipping into her seat two rows ahead, but her eyes kept flicking back to mine, searching for answers I wasn’t ready to give.
I sank into my own chair, the hard plastic cold against my spine, and tried to focus on the professor’s droning voice. *Leases. Assets. Economic benefits.* The words should have been a lifeline, a return to the safe, predictable world of numbers and rules. But all I could see was the ghost of Allari’s hands on mine, all I could hear was the low rumble of his voice whispering *feel* against my ear. My fingers tingled with the memory of his touch, and every time the professor paused, my breath hitched, waiting for
