BRISELLE’S POV.
The silence was the loudest sound I had ever heard. It was the same paralyzing silence that had fallen over the Senior Seminar, amplified by the sheer number of staring witnesses in the quad. My heart hammered against my ribs, a trapped bird desperate for escape.
Kai’s hand on my wrist felt like a handcuff. His skin was warm and rough, a shocking contrast to the soft fabric of my sleeve.
The caramel-haired senior, who I now realized was frozen mid-shriek, finally spoke. Her voice was thin, completely stripped of its earlier arrogance.
“T-Thornefield?” she stammered, addressing Kai. Her eyes darted from his face down to his hand, clamped possessively around my arm, and then back up to his icy gaze. The coffee stain on her white silk blouse seemed to shrink under his scru
