A wave of guilt washed over her. She’d already pulled him in too deep. Her expression crumpled again.The rest of the fog in her head cleared away and the memories of Walter’s death clicked into the timeline of what had happened so far. If Malfoy hadn’t bought that earring for her, he wouldn’t have gotten cursed. Her gaze moved from looking up at him, down to the base of his throat where she knew the fractals of the curse were still embedded in his skin. She wanted to protest, to tell him he was wrong and that these were two separate issues. But for all they knew, the pawn shop employees were a part of it. Why else would they have gone to the trouble of sending an extremely complicated curse to his house? Logic told her that Splitters and his lackeys were not intelligent enough to think of, much less craft a cursed object like that.

Even with all that knowledge, Rowan didn’t want him anywhere near this. She didn’t want him hurt again. As she worried about him, she became painfully aware of exactly how close they were. How his fingers brushed across her skin, so gentle and soft. She’d already indulged herself enough tonight. She should probably stop him at some point, but her heart was hammering too loud in her chest for her to think anything except how she wanted to curl a hand around his neck and pull his lips onto hers.

“I don’t want you to get hurt anymore.” She murmured instead, wrenching her gaze away from his and looking back down to her hands. If he’d gotten hurt again, how could she live with herself?

How could he live with himself if you got hurt again?

The painfully hopeful thought was gone before she could could comprehend what had led her to think of Raphael Malfoy in that way. The boy who she swore was just a spoiled heir back at Hogwarts, who wanted nothing more to do with her other than to use her to get better grades. Her eyes caught sight of the red line around her pinky finger, and she brushed her thumb against it. When Rowan had returned home, she was terrified her family would ask about a mark that was in such an obvious place on her body, but no one had asked such a thing. Even Maisie, who was always so attentive to what Rowan looked like, hadn’t commented on it. It’d taken her a day or so to realize that these marks must only be visible to her and Malfoy, because there was no possibility that she was imagining it. No one at work had commented on it either.

It was a reminder of how linked they already were. Permanent. Yet another thing Rowan had given into, and had no control over anymore. A reminder of how she had no choice but to keep going down this path, and had dragged Malfoy with her. And it was a reminder of exactly how terrified she’d become for his safety. How much she cared about him. It crashed down on her, all consuming, pulling her down again. She couldn’t breathe. She needed to clear her head. She couldn’t think straight.

She had to get out of here. “I need — I need to go.” She began wriggling out of his arms, her cheeks now bright red at how close they were. How alone they were. “I can’t — I can’t do this, I need to think clearly.”

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