Page 144 of Penance

My hands won’t stop shaking. I press them against the closet door, feeling the cool wood beneath my palms, trying to ground myself, but now I’m only panicking.

My chest is tight. Everything is too bright and too loud.

What do I do?!

WhatcanI do?

The door swings open without warning—no knock, no sound across the hall floor outside.

I whip around to face the door and find Draco’s wide shoulders filling the doorframe.

No!

Bad!

Stupid!

That’s suspicious!

He’s gonna know!

He stands perfectly still, arms folded across his chest. The light from the hallway throws his chiseled features into shadow, and I can’t make out his expression. He’s changed into a crisp black button-down, the sleeves rolled to expose forearms carved out of muscle and etched with black and grey ink.

Even though I’ve asked him, I still don’t understand what they mean.

He said they were in an old language, something people don’t speak anymore.

I see dragons and demons.

Who have I let myself crawl into bed with?

Is he the devil, come to tempt me with lies and false promises?

“Are you ready?” he asks, and his voice is so steady that it almost sounds odd.

Ready for church?

Ready to leave?

Or ready for him to, what, sacrifice me?

My mouth goes dry.

I can feel my pulse hammering in my limbs, as if all the blood has rushed to my arms and legs.

What was that phrase I heard in school?

Fight or flight?

Was that what this was?

“Yes,” I say, and my voice breaks like brittle porcelain. I swallow hard and try again. “Almost.”

Draco doesn’t move from the doorway. His posture is relaxed, but there’s nothing casual about the way his eyes pin me down.

What does he know?

Why is he looking at me like I’m food?

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