Evanna had never moved so fast in her life.
Trees blurred past, moonlight streaking between their branches like silver claws. The wind roared in her ears, pulling tears from her eyes and whipping her hair in wild strands behind her. She tried to twist in Thorne's iron grip, but he held her with the ease of a man carrying a feather.
It should have been terrifying, but oddly... it wasn’t. Not exactly.
She wanted to hate the way his warmth seeped into her skin, grounding her, anchoring her, even as the world spun in a blur around them. She wanted to scream at him, demand he put her down and explain everything. But the breath caught in her throat, strangled by confusion, anger, and something else—a magnetic pull she couldn't name. A part of her wanted to believe this wasn’t just k********g.
