There was no arrogance in his tone. No bravado. No unnecessary embellishment.
Just a fact.
Amberine clenched her fists. This was going to be a disaster.
She could feel it in the tension coiling around her muscles, in the steady drumbeat of her heart thrumming faster and faster against her rib cage. The air was already electric from Draven's presence alone, but now, as she watched him stand at the head of the lecture hall, she sensed something more. It wasn't just authority. It was certainty—a cold, metallic aura that declared he expected nothing but obedience.