RAGNA POV...
Just then, after the three of us had finally stepped into the hall—late, hungry, and already irritated by the endless shuffle of feet and murmuring voices—we quietly slipped behind the queue like we hadn't just made a grand, dramatic entrance that everyone absolutely noticed, even if they pretended not to.
I stood there trying to appear calm, patient, unbothered, as if my stomach wasn't staging a rebellion and my hunger wasn't clawing at the inside of my ribs like a caged beast begging to be let loose.
And then I saw him.
Marcus.
A fat, almost comically plump boy who stood nearly five feet tall, though his presence made him seem twice that height. His skin carried a faint fiery flush, as though embers smoldered just beneath the surface. Two tiny horns—barely two centimeters long—curved from the sides of his forehead, but honestly, those were the least remarkable things about him.
