Avery's POV
I barely spared Amelia a glance as I walked past her in the dimly lit hallway, my steps steady and unhurried. The smug smirk curled on her lips didn't go unnoticed, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
She had been relentless since we returned to the base, her sharp tongue lashing out at every opportunity. Snide remarks, condescending laughs, and pointed insults—it was as if she had made it her mission to get under my skin.
I could feel her eyes boring into my back, the weight of her glare almost suffocating. The air around her practically crackled with animosity, waves of anger and loathing rolling off her in a suffocating tide.
She wasn't just irritated or jealous, no, this was something much darker, something far more dangerous. Every word she flung my way was laced with venom, each carefully crafted to provoke, to wound.
But it wasn't the taunts that unsettled me. It was the look in her eyes.
Cold. Malicious. Deadly.