The classroom was silent.
Not the usual kind, but the kind of Gravemont silence that existed whenever Sylas stood at the front of the room.
He stood behind his desk in his usual long black coat, glasses sitting perfectly on the bridge of his nose as he calmly wrote something across the board. Every movement was precise, and his presence, as usual, was enough to keep students sitting straight in their chairs.
Nobody whispered.
Nobody shifted unnecessarily.
Nobody dared breathe too loudly.
And everyone knew better than to test him.
Unfortunately, there was one person in the classroom who wasn't particularly impressed by any of that.
Thomas.
Or, as Sylas privately knew her—
Theo.
She sat close to the window of the classroom with her arms crossed, her chin resting against her palm, and her amber eyes narrowed at him.
She had been staring at him for twenty-three minutes.
Sylas knew.
He had counted. He also knew she was doing it deliberately.
