[Ovelia's POV]
The sharp, unexpected knocks splintered the thick tension in our private room. In an instant, Ray, Ann, Ace, and Gale all snapped to alertness. Their casual postures vanished, replaced by a hunter's stillness. Four pairs of eyes—orange, black, silver, and gray—cut through the lantern-lit haze, locking onto the wooden door as if they could see through it. As Ray stood up, the movement fluid and silent, I found my left hand clutching the fairy stuffed toy in my lap, my fingers digging into its soft fabric.
We watched him, a silent audience holding its breath. The only sounds were the faint hiss of the hotpot and the frantic drumbeat of my own heart in my ears. Ray moved with a predator's grace toward the door, his right hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword, his thumb caressing the guard. Every line of his body spoke of controlled readiness.
