Aria had barely shut the door to her room when her rage exploded outward. Without hesitation, she marched toward the small table, grabbed a glass jar with trembling hands, and hurled it against the stone floor. It shattered instantly, shards skidding in every direction like a physical echo of her fury.
She was furious. Blinding, trembling, all-consuming anger welled up inside her, riding alongside the hot sting of tears that filled her eyes but refused to fall. At first, she had thought she could take things slowly—wait, observe, figure out Zyren's weaknesses—but at that moment, logic had burned away. All she could think of was the humiliation, the shame, and the unbearable, violating gaze that had followed her every step.
Her chest heaved as her breaths came in ragged gasps, each one louder than the last. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her sides as she stood frozen, pulsing with emotion.
