Tharion's gaze was sharp, unwavering. His voice, though calm, carried a weight that pressed against her chest.
"Thalina… who are you really?"
A cold shiver ran down her spine.
Her breath caught as the question hung between them, suffocating, pressing in like an unseen force.
Why was everyone onto her today?
She had just saved a group of dying students, yet instead of gratitude, all she got were suspicious stares and probing questions. Her heart pounded. She needed to turn this around—fast.
She exhaled shakily before her expression twisted into something wounded, something betrayed.
"What is wrong with all of you?" she demanded, voice trembling with just the right mix of frustration and pain.
"I did something good, and instead of being grateful, you're interrogating me like I've committed a crime." Her voice cracked as she threw her arms out.
"I used the Crimson Tear plant. That's all. It's the herbs, Tharion. It's not some—some secret power or whatever you think!"
