Afternoon sunlight spilled warmly across the university courtyard while students drifted lazily between old stone pathways carrying coffee cups and unfinished conversations beneath golden autumn trees, and from a distance the campus looked peaceful enough to belong inside an ordinary world untouched by blood symbols, ancient nightmares, and dangerous obsessions.
But appearances lied beautifully here.
Especially among young women smiling with poison hidden carefully behind glossed lips and polished laughter.
Ava Turner stood near the marble fountain at the center of the courtyard while several girls surrounded her beneath the soft afternoon breeze, and despite the elegant confidence she carried naturally there remained irritation visible through the tightness around her mouth whenever Elara's name surfaced nearby.
Which happened constantly now.
Too constantly.
Students whispered about Elara in hallways.
Professors defended her unfairly.
Men watched her openly.
