➽Three: Master

                                    

                                          
"Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself."
-Harvey Fierstein

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
The enchantress guided me out into the dim hallways of the Academy, where chaos reigned. Voices rose from every direction—some shouting, others sobbing uncontrollably—blending into a cacophony that grew louder with every step. The elegantly dressed woman walked beside me, her presence unwavering, though the sharp click of her stiletto heels became lost in the frenzy surrounding us.
"The word is getting out that you're off the bidding list. Things will be very hectic tonight." She allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.
"Andrea!" a deep voice called out, catching the woman's attention.
The man who had directed me from my prison earlier barreled through a group of people scrambling to make last-minute arrangements. He snarled at them, hardly slowing down as he approached us. My breath caught in my throat. The intensity of his glare sent a chill through me, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. Before I realized it, my hand had found hers, gripping it tightly in panic. She gave me a slight glance before stopping to turn around.
"Hello, Taric. How can I help you?" 
"I don't know what you did, but I know you did this. She was supposed to be mine!" His eyes darkened as he pointed his finger harshly at me. 
A tense silence followed, the air thick with the weight of the unspoken challenge. Andrea's typically graceful posture stiffened, her hands curling into tight fists at her sides. The light from the hallway seemed to flicker, casting shadows over her pale face and highlighting the fury that simmered beneath the surface. Her platinum hair, usually immaculate, clung to her face as if caught in a sudden gust of wind, adding to her increasingly menacing aura.
Taric, in contrast, stood tall, his shoulders squared and eyes gleaming with arrogance. He towered over her, his body coiled with the strength of a predator ready to strike. Despite his bravado, a flicker of unease shifted in his expression—too brief to be noticed by anyone other than someone paying close attention. He turned his weight slightly, his muscles tensing to prepare for what unfolded.
The space between them crackled with palpable tension, the moment hanging on the edge of chaos.
Taric moved inches from me before I could blink. Andrea's body slumped against the wall, giving him the freedom to shove me against the other side. The surge of anger that flared up inside me was foreign after being dormant for so long. A fire burned through my core, fueling my mind to race for a way out.
The slow heat began to rise from the pit of my stomach, and a snarl built in my throat. I didn't know what had come over me, but instinct took hold. I reached for Taric's arm. I knew fighting back stood futile, but I might have a chance if I could distract him long enough for Andrea to heal.