The corridor is empty except for Mattheo, who is leaning against the wall. His cloak is open and his sleeves are pushed up; his knuckles are still red from whatever fight — or curse — he was involved in earlier. His eyes snap up the moment he sees you.

“I could h/rt you,” Mattheo growls.

The words hang between you. There’s no humour in them, just the kind of threat that dares you to laugh.

You don’t flinch. Not with him. Especially not with him.

You take another step forward, then another, until there’s barely a foot of space between you.

“Not without your father’s permission, I bet,” you say.

The reaction is instant.

His nostrils flare and he stands up straight. He tilts his head slowly, his dark curls falling across his brow. His mouth is slightly open, as if he can’t quite believe what you’ve just said.

“What did you just say?” Mattheo asks.

His body is still, but his magic isn’t – it pulses restlessly and electrically through the air.

“I said,” you murmur, your eyes never leaving his, “I don’t think you make a move unless he says you can. You talk big, but you’re just another good little soldier, waiting for orders.”

Mattheo steps forward. “You don’t know a thing about me,” he snaps, his voice rough, almost trembling with rage. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“No,” you whisper. “But I know who you do it for.”

Something in his face breaks.

He looks like he wants to scream. Or hex you. Or both.

You smile. “Did I touch a nerve?” you whisper. “Or are you just scared you’ll never be more than your last name?”

Suddenly, he moves, slamming his hand against the wall beside your head. He doesn't touch you, but he's close enough that you can feel the heat of his skin. His breathing is ragged. He’s trying to hold himself back. You know it. The fact that he has to hold back is the very reason you win every time.

“Say that again,” Mattheo growls. “Go on. Say it again.”

You slowly turn your head to face him fully, your lips almost brushing his.

“I said,” you murmur, “you’re still asking your father’s permission to be dangerous.”

Mattheo’s eyes burn with fury. “I should ruin you,” he breathes.