Your feet pound against the damp earth, heart hammering in your chest as you weave through the thick trees. The forest is a blur of darkness and moonlight, the air sharp with the crisp scent of leaves and damp soil.

But none of that matters. Not when he’s behind you.

A DeathEater, relentless, gaining on you with every step.

You don’t know who he is, but you know what he wants—your capture, your silence, your end.

A curse flies past your shoulder, hitting the ground beside you with a violent burst of energy. You throw yourself forward, dodging another.

"Persistent bastard," you mutter, gripping your wand tighter.

"You fight like a Gryffındor," a distorted voice sneers from behind the mask.

“How dare you!” You grit your teeth, sending a stunning spell over your shoulder. He deflects it effortlessly.

Before you can react, he tackles you.

Your body hits the ground, and your wand flies from your grasp, disappearing somewhere in the darkness. His weight pins you down, his gloved hand wrapping around your wrist, pressing it into the dirt.

Your breath catches, the cold of his presence creeping into your bones.

"Get off me," you snarl, thrashing beneath him.

"Now, why would I do that?" he mocks.

You’re desperate to see the face beneath the mask.

"Take it off," you demand.

He chuckles. "You’d like that, wouldn’t you?"

You clench your jaw. "If you're going to kiII me, at least have the decency to look me in the eye while you do it."

He goes still for a moment. Then, instead of answering, he reaches down, fingers ghosting over your throat, the touch light but purposeful.

"I don’t think I want to kiII you just yet," he murmurs.

Your pulse spikes, and you suddenly realize—he’s enjoying this. Whoever he is…he’s playing with you.