We were now mere inches apart. I leaned down, my face level with hers, my eyes blazing with barely contained fury.
"You don't want to make an enemy of me, Hawke." I growled.
Lyanna swallowed hard, but her gaze remained defiant. "I'm not afraid of y...
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The soft glow of moonlight filtered through the tall, arched windows of the hospital wing, casting long shadows across the pristine white beds.
I couldn't sleep, my mind restless.
The Daily Prophet lay spread across my lap, its pages rustling softly as I flicked through them, desperate for distraction from the oppressive silence of the night.
Well, almost silence...
The night nurse who slept in the office snored, but her snoring sounded like a walrus in mating session.
It vibrated through the thick stone wall.
I rolled my eyes, wondering for the hundredth time why the nurse insisted on keeping me here.
My fingers traced the bold headlines splashed across the page, a chill running down my spine as I read about the attacks sweeping across England and Scotland.
Death Eaters, their masks leering from the moving photographs, seemed to stare right at me.
A memory surfaced — Pansy's words about Mattheo leading...
No, I pushed the thought away.
He wouldn't. Would he?
The creak of the heavy oak door startled me.
Hushed footsteps echoed down the aisle, accompanied by a sliver of light seeping under my privacy curtain.
Hastily, I folded the newspaper and tossed it onto the bedside table, heart racing as I feigned sleep.
"Lyanna."
The whisper, barely audible, sent a jolt through me.
I'd recognise that voice anywhere.
Slowly, I opened my eyes to see Mattheo's familiar silhouette slipping around the edge of the curtain.
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In his hand dangled my tote bag, its worn fabric a comforting sight.
"Mattheo?" I sat up, the crisp sheets falling to my waist. "What are you doing here?"
