After storming out of Ophelia's dorm in anger, Ryker walked briskly across the courtyard, ignoring the curious stares of the few students wandering around. His fists were clenched at his sides, his jaw tight. He hated that his father kept forcing him into a corner, hated that Ophelia acted as if she had every right to him, as though he were some possession. The moment he stepped out of the female hostel, the cool evening air brushed against his skin, offering some relief from the suffocating confrontation he had just endured. But it wasn't enough. His mood remained dark, his chest heavy with frustration.