Around them, the cafeteria's energy changed. Students leaned forward at their tables, whispers stilled mid-breath. Every chair seemed to pivot toward the confrontation, the air thick with the kind of silence that comes before a storm.
Lomwel's eyes narrowed—not in thought, but in defense. His smirk remained, though it strained at the edges. "I don't need a useless mutt." His tone was flat, deliberate, but the edge of it cut sharper than he meant it to. Without another glance at the dog, he turned on his heel. His white coat flared with the motion, boots clicking against the polished floor as he strode toward the exit.
Ceyla's entire body tensed, her hands curling into tight fists. Her voice was low and dangerous. "That bastard—"
Kaen had already taken a step forward beside her, shoulders squared, jaw locked. "Let's finish this now—"
Before either could move another inch, a firm, steady hand landed on each of their shoulders.
"Enough."
