Mattheo’s voice echoes through the empty corridor like he’s speaking into the dark itself, desperate, breathless, the kind of sound that burns straight into your chest.

“Darling girl, I cannot understand where you have gone. Where you have disappeared to. I need to know. Give me a sign you’re still alive.”

His steps drag. His breath shakes. Mattheo Riddle — furious, reckless, unstoppable — suddenly sounds breakable.

But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t see.

Not the shadow on the far side of the corridor. Not the silhouette leaning against the stone wall with perfect stillness. Not the man who’s listening with a soft, cruel smirk tugging at his lips.

Tom’s voice unravels from the darkness like silk dipped in poison.

“Aww. Wasn’t that adorable.”

He steps forward, slow and smooth, like he’s savoring every second of Mattheo’s suffering.

“Little does my unattentive brother know, right?”

You feel his magic brush your skin — cold, claiming, unmistakably his. Tom’s fingers trail a whisper along your jaw, guiding your face up toward him.

“He will never know you chose me instead of him.”

Mattheo keeps calling your name down the corridor, voice cracking, unaware he’s already lost the game.

Tom leans closer, lips ghosting the shell of your ear, whispering the truth only you will hear.

“But it seems you’ve made the wrong decision there, didn’t you, sunshine?”

His smirk widens as your breath trembles.

“Though…”

His hand settles over your heartbeat, slow and claiming.

“You really have made a beautiful first horcrux.”

Your pulse stutters under his touch.

“You will forever stay with me.”

And farther down the hall Mattheo keeps calling your name, unaware that the dark has already swallowed you whole — and that you didn’t run.

You were claimed.