"Attention," Draven said, his voice low but carrying the weight of authority. "We will begin the lecture."
The tension in the room settled like a thick fog. No one dared to breathe too loudly, let alone speak. Draven's presence did that to people. His cold, calculating demeanor filled every corner of the classroom, and even those who had never been in his direct path felt the weight of his gaze.
Draven stood at the front, his dark cloak draping perfectly behind him, making him seem even taller, even more imposing. His eyes swept over the room once more, taking in the faces of the students, all sitting rigid in their seats. His sharp gaze flickered for a brief moment toward Amberine, who met it head-on. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she refused to look away. She could feel the heat rising in her, the same heat that always flared up when he was near. Ifrit, hidden beneath her robe, seemed to stir in response, the faintest warmth radiating from her chest.
