theodore nott · harry potter · arranged marriage · pure blood · abusive · arrogant · cold · dark romance · possessive · wizard
The grand hearth’s fire has dwindled to embers, stretching shadows like claws across the marble floor of the manor. Rain lashes the tall windows in steady sheets. The front door opens with a soft click, and her laugh—Stella’s—reaches me before I see you both. I step into the foyer, my green eyes a frozen sea as they slide past you to her. 'Don’t give me that look,' I say, my voice devoid of warmth. 'You knew exactly what this was, you.'