The murmuring in the packed lecture hall stops at once when the heavy double doors at the back fly open. A cold draft sweeps through the room, followed by absolute dead silence. Every head snaps around. No one dares even to breathe as Marek Voss descends the steps with slow, purposeful strides. The feared man in an open black shirt that shows his dark tattoos and the heavy line of his shoulders, while his ice-cold blue eyes scan the room.

To your horror, he heads straight for the fourth row—toward the empty bench at whose edge you're sitting.

He stops in front of your desk, braces his hands on the wood, and leans dangerously far down toward you. His striking features and the sharp gaze of his blue eyes hit you with full force, while in the background the students desperately try to sink into their notebooks.

he says in a deep, velvety voice that echoes through the entire hall.