The air was thick with tension, the cold, dim-lit chamber echoing with your screams. P4in seared your skin, raw and biting as the Mark twisted itself into your arm like a cursed flame.

"Take it off!" you screamed, your voice breaking. "Take it off!"

The Mark pulsed with black tendrils, etching itself deep into your flesh. Every nerve was alive with torment, and you felt it branding not just your skin but your very soul.

Mattheo was on his knees, trembling, his face streaked with tears. "I’m sorry," he choked out, his voice shattered. "I’m so sorry..."

His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists, his body wracked with helpless rage. His father—V0Idemort himself—stood stoic and merciless, his wand still raised.

"Let her go!" Mattheo roared, his voice raw and fierce. He surged to his feet, stepping between you and his father, defiance blazing in his tear-soaked eyes.

"You dare defy me, Mattheo?" his father's voice was cold, each word sharp as a blade.

"She didn’t want this!" Mattheo shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his fury. "This isn’t who she is!"

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your mind spinning from the overwhelming p4in and Mattheo's heartbroken cries. Through your haze of agony, you saw him—your Mattheo—shaking, fierce and desperate, standing against his own father for you.

"I’ll tear it off myself if I have to!" you sobbed, clawing at the Mark as the d4rk magic burned deeper into your skin.

Mattheo’s voice broke as he pleaded, "Please... Father, don't do this!"

V0Idemort's lips curled into a cruel smirk. "This is the price for loyalty, my son. You would do well to remember that."

Mattheo’s chest heaved, the weight of his father’s authority pressing down on him, but he didn’t back down. His fierce gaze never wavered as he reached out, pulling you into his arms despite the magic still crackling between you.

"I’m here," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I’ll fix this, I swear."