Boundless

𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 (𝟏𝟖)

Mattheo

I never left her alone in this house. Not once.

Not with the Death Eaters lurking around every goddamn corner, their presence polluting every inch of the place. Not with the way they watched her, like they knew she didn't belong to their world. Like they knew she wasn't one of them.

And especially not when we were away from Hogwarts—away from the eyes of her little boyfriend, away from the lies and the pretending. Here, in this manor, Sebastian didn't exist. He didn't get to steal her attention, didn't get to touch her, didn't get to kiss her in the open like he belonged to her.

Because here, she was mine.

Just like she always had been.

I could feel it in the way she clung to me, the way her fingers sought mine when we walked through the halls, the way she never protested when I slipped into her bed at night, wrapping my arms around her, making sure she never had to wake up alone in this house again.

And fuck, I wasn't handling it well.

I had never been good at sharing. Never been good at restraint. But at school, there were rules. Eyes everywhere. People who could put the pieces together if we got too reckless.

But here?

Here, I didn't have to watch her play the perfect girlfriend to someone else. Didn't have to pretend I was just another old friend. Didn't have to sit back while she gave another man what should only ever be mine.

Here, it was just us.

And I took full fucking advantage of it.

I stayed close. Always. A hand at the small of her back when we passed the Death Eaters in the halls. My body between hers and theirs whenever we had to sit through those stiff, unbearable dinners, where they spoke of war like it was a game they were all eager to play.

And when the day was over—when the doors were shut, and the walls could no longer listen—I had her completely.

Every night, I had her pressed against me, wrapped in my arms, her breath warm against my throat. I memorised every sigh, every shiver, every way she melted against me. I made sure she knew exactly whose bed she belonged in.

Because here, in this manor, there was no Sebastian.

There was no one else but me.

—

The gardens were dead.

Winter had long since stolen the colour from them, leaving only brittle stems and frostbitten petals behind. Most people wouldn't have given it a second glance. But Olivia—Olivia wasn't most people.

I found her outside, standing among the lifeless plants, her wand moving with slow, delicate precision as she whispered spells under her breath. Magic shimmered faintly in the air around her, curling through the empty branches, coaxing life back into something that had already given up.

She was stubborn like that.

I leaned against the stone archway, watching her. The wind caught her hair, making it dance against her coat, the golden strands glowing in the pale morning light. She looked too soft for a place like this. Too gentle to be trapped in a house filled with men who had forgotten what beauty was.

And yet, here she was. Trying to fix something long broken.

"Still think they can be saved?" I asked, pushing off the wall and stepping toward her.

She didn't turn, but I saw her lips twitch. "Magic can do a lot of things."

"Some things are past saving."

She sighed, tucking her wand away as she glanced up at me. "I don't believe that."

Of course she didn't.

She had always been like this. She looked at things—at people—and saw more than what was left of them. Saw what they used to be. What they could be. It was why she had always been drawn to the broken things.

Why she had always been drawn to me.

I stepped closer, pulling something small from my pocket. "I got you something."

She blinked, surprised. "What?"

I didn't answer. Just reached for her wrist, turning it over, pressing the cool metal against her palm. Her fingers curled around it instinctively, and when she looked down, her breath hitched.

It was a bracelet.

Simple, thin, unassuming. At a glance, it looked like nothing more than a delicate band of silver. But when she ran her fingers over it, magic flickered beneath her touch, revealing an inscription only we could see.

M.R.

Her eyes lifted to mine, searching.

I smirked. "You can wear it anywhere. No one will know but us."

Her fingers tightened around the bracelet, as if she could feel the weight of what it meant. What I meant by giving it to her.

Mine.

She didn't speak, just let me take it from her, fastening it around her wrist myself. The metal was cold against her skin, but she didn't flinch. Just watched as I ran my fingers over the engraving one last time before stepping back.

"Now," I murmured, my voice lower, rougher. "No matter where you are, you'll always be wearing something that marks you as mine."

Her breath hitched.

I grinned, pleased.

Sebastian might have her in name. He might have the privilege of standing beside her in public, of calling her his.

But I had this.

I had her secrets. I had the parts of her no one else could touch.

And now, I had her wearing me—wherever she went.