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Sebastian Sallow knew exactly where she had been.
Not in the way he wanted - not with certainty, not with anything concrete - but with enough fragments pieced together over four years to form the shape of a life on the run.
He had her trail mapped out in the quiet corners of his mind, following the edges of old reports, informant whispers, and the rare, infuriatingly brief letters she sent him.
Four years.
Four years of her name appearing in passing on case files, never as the suspect, but always the common denominator.
Four years of her moving from city to city, a wisp slipping between the cracks of wizarding society.
Four years of dark wizards trying to collect the price on her head, of criminals muttering about the bitch always thwarting them.
Four years since she left him.
And now, tonight, for the first time in years, she was right here.
Sebastian hadn’t planned on working late.
It was a quiet night, the kind that was rare for an Auror, and he had intended to take full advantage of it. His work was done, his desk was cleared, and he was one coat-donning motion away from going home.
Then, the holding cell wards flared to life.
The usual late night ruckus wasn’t uncommon at this hour - there were always arrests, always someone to process - but the tone of the conversation outside his office caught his attention.
“She put up a hell of a fight.”
Sebastian didn’t look up yet, but his hand stilled over the case file he’d been closing, ears pricking at his colleagues’ exhausted discussion. It wasn't often they were so beleaguered.
“Three of ours had to wrangle her before we could even get a wand on her.”
That wasn’t unusual either. Plenty of criminals put up a fight.
But something about the gruff, irritated way his colleague spoke felt wrong.
“Surprised she’s still breathing, with the way Rookwood’s old lot has been hunting her.”
Sebastian’s entire body locked up.
Slowly, carefully, he set his quill down.
No.
Not her.
Not now.
He could already hear them moving toward the intake offices, voices continuing, dragging someone past his door.
And then - a laugh.
Soft, defiant, and familiar in the worst way.
Sebastian was already standing before he could think better of it. He stepped into the hallway just in time to see a flash of hair, a wary profile, the unmistakable set of shoulders he had traced with his eyes a hundred times before she vanished.
She was right there.
Four years too late. Four years too far.
And she was smirking at one of the Aurors like this wasn’t a dire situation.
Sebastian had spent years imagining how this moment would go. If she would find him first. If he would stumble into her in some back alley, some desperate hideaway where she had barely evaded her latest pursuers. If he would hear about her death before he ever got the chance to see her again. He had never once imagined it would happen like this.
He needed to move.
Now.
Before some idiot put her in a cell she had no business being in.
His voice came out before he could properly think through it, slamming open his office door.
Three Aurors, one nursing a bloody nose and a furious scowl, were hauling precisely the witch he both wanted to see and dreaded all the same. Bound and detained like a common criminal.
"I’ll handle this one."
The group turned, startled by the sudden interruption.
"Since when do you do intake?" His colleague asked, frowning.
Sebastian’s gaze stayed locked on her, though.
"Since now."
Her eyes flicked toward him for the first time, and there was no shock, no startled gasp, no wide-eyed revelation. Just that same wry amusement, the slight, knowing tilt of her head, like she’d expected him.
Sebastian exhaled heavily, brushing a hand through his hair.
"Get her out of the restraints. Now." He said flatly. "I’ll take it from here."
His colleague hesitated, but one stern look from Sebastian was enough.
He had spent four years pretending he wasn’t chasing her ghost. Four years pretending she was just another memory, another name.
Now that she was here in the flesh?
He wasn’t pretending anymore.
Sebastian knew she wouldn’t have gotten caught for something as idiotic as stealing or petty crime. She was too careful, too elusive. Even in the moments when she wasn’t, it wasn’t the law that chased her - it was the people who still wanted her dead.
That alone made it all the more infuriating that she was now sitting in a Ministry holding cell, magically restrained, looking like she had been dragged through hell and back and entirely unbothered about it.
The report on his desk, filed hastily by some junior Auror who clearly hadn’t been aware of who they’d picked up, laid it all out in maddeningly dry detail.
Charges: Trespassing, minor assault against a Ministry official.
Apprehended in Knockturn Alley. Suspect resisted detainment. Suspect was found carrying a falsified identification and several dubiously-acquired wands.
Sebastian could have laughed. None of that was even remotely surprising.
What the hell had she been doing in Knockturn Alley, though? She had spent years avoiding places like that - anywhere that might land her back in enemy sights. Even if she had been passing through, she knew better than to linger. But then he saw it - one tiny detail buried beneath the rest of the report, almost an afterthought.
Subject was fleeing pursuit. Multiple unidentified figures observed attempting to track her before dispersing upon Auror arrival.
Sebastian’s grip on the parchment tightened.
So that was it. She’d been running. Again.
He ran a frustrated hand through his already mussed hair, forcing himself to consider. That was the part he hadn’t missed about her. She was always moving, always one step ahead of the people who wanted her gone. She had no allies, no backup, no one at her back - by her own damn choice. And now, she had been cornered.
Of course, her being, well, her, she had hardly gone down without a fight.
The minor assault charge? That was a polite way of saying she had taken a swing at an Auror when they tried to pin her down for suspicious activity. The junior official whose name was scrawled in the margins of the report - Montgomery, was it? - had needed to be sent to the Healer.
Sebastian sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. She never did anything the easy way.
He set the report down and leaned back in his chair, weighing his options. The Aurors had no real reason to keep her detained. Some minor trespassing wasn’t enough to hold someone overnight, and unless Montgomery demanded personal vengeance for his bruised nose and ego, the assault charge wouldn’t stick - simply a hazard of the job. Her only real crime was existing in a way that made the Ministry uncomfortable.
Still, the fact that she had been forced into a corner was a problem.
She wasn't the sort to let herself get caught. Not unless she had no other choice.
Which meant things were worse than she was letting on with that cocky smirk.
The safehouses she had been using were likely compromised. The bounty on her head was still tempting enough that people were actively looking for her. And now, instead of being out there dealing with it, she was sitting in a holding cell, wandless, surrounded by the very people who had spent the past few years not looking after her.
Sebastian drummed his fingers against his desk, debating his next move.
He could let the process play out. It wouldn’t take long. The senior officers would look over the case, realize it wasn’t worth the paperwork, and send her on her way.
Or.
Or he could cut through the bullshit and handle it himself.
He stood up.
The decision wasn’t really a decision at all. It never had been.
She was his problem.
Had always been his problem.
And if she had the nerve to show up in his jurisdiction and not even have the courtesy to pay him a visit of her own volition…
Well.
He’d just have to go tell her exactly what he thought about that.
He’d seen a lot of things in his years as an Auror, really.
Men begging for their lives, people who could lie so well they nearly believed themselves, and he'd seen the worst of the wizarding world slither about in all the dark crevices of the underworld. He had walked into rooms where the air was thick with dark magic, where people stared at him with hollow, empty eyes, where monsters wore the faces of men.
And yet, somehow, nothing had ever managed to unnerve him quite like walking into that holding cell and seeing her lounging on the cot like she had nowhere better to be.
She looked up when the door opened, her expression one of mild amusement and vague disinterest, the kind of look that said she had already sized up the situation and found it wholly unremarkable. But then, recognition flickered across her face.
The barely-there widening of her eyes, the brief hitch in her breath. Then, back to calm, collected, unreadable.
A lazy smirk tugged at her lips as she leaned back against the wall, tilting her head.
“Well. They really do send their best, don’t they?”
Sebastian huffed out through his nose, shutting the door behind him. “If I had known you were going to make such a mess of things, I would have let someone else deal with you.”
“Oh, I didn’t make a mess of things.” She said, stretching her arms over her head with a lazy ease that was entirely unconvincing given the state she was in. “Your Aurors just weren’t prepared for the sheer, overwhelming inconvenience of me.”
Sebastian crossed his arms, taking her in properly now. She was too thin. Dark circles under her eyes, her hair was a tangled mess, and she was favoring her left side; an injury she was trying very hard not to show.
He should have expected as much. It had been four years of running and living in the margins.
Sebastian paused a moment before he dragged a chair across the floor, planting it down in front of her cot. He sat, his knees spread, arms resting over them, and leveled her with a long, unimpressed stare.
“You know…” He mused, “most people try to avoid getting caught.”
She snorted. “Oh, come off it, Sallow. I wasn’t caught. I was… intercepted.”
“Mhm. And here I was hoping you’d gotten better at lying.”
She arched a brow. “Disappointed?”
“Yes, actually.” He said flatly, leaning back against the chair. “Because if you’re getting sloppy, that means you’re not doing as well as you pretend to be. And that is a problem.”
Her jaw tightened just slightly, a crack in the mask. It was so quick, so subtle, but Sebastian caught it, the way he always did.
She was struggling.
She would never admit it, but she was.
“Why are you really here?” He pressed, voice quieter now. “And don’t give me that trespassing rubbish. What were you running from?”
She held his gaze a long moment. Then, finally, she sighed, resting her head back against the wall.
“Some bounty hunters.” She admitted, her voice casual, like she was commenting on the weather. “The usual. Thought I lost them, but you know how persistent they can be. Saw the no trespassing markers and decided I'd take my chances with Ministry dogs instead of the ones chasing me.”
Persistent. Right. That was one way to put it.
There was no bounty on her head from the Ministry. But there was a damn good one in Knockturn Alley.
People like her - people who had put an end to entire operations, burned crime syndicates to the ground - they didn’t just get to walk away.
And now, the people who wanted her dead were getting closer.
Sebastian bit back the urge to start pacing, to chew her out for not coming directly to him for help ages ago. Instead, he studied her again - the way she still hadn’t moved from that careful position against the cot, the way she was holding herself stiffly.
“How badly are you hurt?” He asked.
She scoffed. “Since when do you care?”
“Since we were fifteen.” He said dryly.
That, at least, seemed to catch her off guard.
She looked away first, petulant as ever. “It’s nothing.”
“You’re lying again.”
“Again, nothing new.”
He let out a slow breath, forcing himself to ease back into the chair. “Do I need to call in the Healer after they're done patching up your handiwork on my colleague?”
She rolled her eyes, but her lip twitched, and that was something.
“I can manage.”
Sebastian hummed, unconvinced, but let it go for now.
“Montgomery wants you charged.” He said, changing the subject.
She huffed a laugh. “Yes, well, Montgomery should have considered that before putting his hands on me.”
Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose. “You broke his nose.”
“He grabbed my arm. I reacted accordingly.”
Sebastian dropped his hand back to his lap. “Right. Well, congratulations, you’ve made an enemy of a deeply mediocre Ministry official.”
“Please, I'm positively quaking.”
Despite himself, Sebastian let out a short bark of a laugh.
It was ridiculous. She had no business making him laugh right now. But she did.
He shook his head. “You’re possibly even more of a nightmare than you used to be.”
She smirked, that familiar, infuriating, perfect little expression that made his chest ache.
He leaned forward, watching her carefully. Really taking in the changes in his old flame and friend from hard years on the outskirts of wizarding society. Still breathtaking, in an absolutely unhinged, battle-weary sort of way.
How different would she be had he properly pursued her? Chased her down and pulled her out of her endless cycle of fleeing and fighting and dragged her kicking and screaming into safety and domesticity.
For the first time in four years, though, she finally had nowhere to run, and he was mildly grateful and simultaneously amused that it had taken three Aurors, shackles, and a cell to wrangle her into some semblance of submission.
Sebastian returned to his office quite some time later; exhausted, victorious, and wholly prepared to lecture his uncooperative witch about her inability to keep herself out of trouble. He'd managed to pull some strings and get her out of the holding cell and properly healed and left her stupidly alone in his office while he cleaned up the rest of her mess.
Montgomery had been an ordeal, as expected. The man whinged about the state of his nose, his dignity, and his status within the Auror Office, none of which Sebastian particularly cared about. It had taken an exhausting amount of diplomacy, ego-stroking, and sheer force of will to convince him that pressing charges on a woman who had already spent the past four years being hunted by the worst of society was hardly a good use of Ministry resources.
In the end, Montgomery relented, mostly because Sebastian had spun some absolute bullshit about his remorseless attacker being a valuable source of information, a contact worth maintaining rather than imprisoning.
The reality was far simpler.
She was Sebastian's.
And Montgomery had no business making decisions about what would happen to her.
Sebastian sighed, rolling the tension from his shoulders as he pushed open his office door, ready to tell her she owed him a lifetime of gratitude and a drink.
Instead, he found her halfway through rifling through his desk.
For a moment, he just stared.
She had made herself comfortable - perched on the edge of his chair, one leg tucked beneath her, blanket draped over her shoulders, the remains of a half-finished cup of tea beside her.
She looked up as he entered, and instead of the sheepish expression she should have had, she offered a shameless, toothy grin.
“Oh, good.” She greeted cheerfully. “You’re back. Thought I might have to break out of here.”
Sebastian rubbed his temples, migraine returning.
“Are you even physically capable of behaving yourself?” He asked.
“Define behaving.”
Sebastian could have throttled her.
“I left you here with a blanket and tea and a very clear instruction to stay out of trouble and rest.” He waved vaguely toward his desk, where she had clearly been prying into his personal belongings. “This? This is neither resting nor out of trouble.”
“I got bored.”
“You’re like a bloody Niffler.”
“You enabled me, really.”
Sebastian groaned and walked over, bracing his hands against the desk as he leaned forward.
“All right, let’s have it.” He said, nodding to her hands. “What have you pilfered?”
She held up a small photograph between her fingers.
Sebastian’s stomach plummeted.
Of course.
Of all the things she could have found.
She turned the photo toward him, her lips twitching upward, quite pleased with herself.
It was an old shot - one that had once been a group photo, back when things had been simpler. Anne and Ominis had been in the original picture, all of them clad in Slytherin green at one of his old Quidditch matches in seventh year. She was there, too, traitorously wearing his team jersey over her own very non-Slytherin uniform, eyes bright, smile easy, arms looped around his shoulders.
Sebastian cut the others out of it years ago.
He didn’t need anyone else in the frame.
Just her.
“Rather sentimental of you…” She mused.
Sebastian cleared his throat and straightened, bracing for impact. He wasn't the easily-flustered boy she used to menace.
“Could say the same for you.” He shot back. “You’ve been carrying something of mine around for years, after all.”
She arched a brow.
Sebastian smirked. “My heart.”
She sputtered immediately, whipping the photo at his face.
He snatched it out of the air with ease, grinning.
“You absolute -”
“Ah, ah.” He cut in smoothly. “Careful with your words, love. I just saved you from an overnight stay in a Ministry cell. You wouldn’t want to be ungrateful.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. Then, to his surprise, she reached into her coat, pulling out a small, well-worn leather notebook. Sebastian watched, curious, as she flipped through the pages before pulling out something from between them.
A folded clipping of parchment.
She set it on the desk between them, waiting expectantly. Sebastian hesitated before picking it up, unfolding it carefully.
It was an old article from the Prophet, and one he recognized immediately.
The one they had run about him when he had completed Auror training, his official induction into the force. The photo was crisp, professional - Sebastian standing tall in his uniform, expression severe.
He always hated that picture - thought it made him look like he was trying too hard.
But her?
She had apparently cut it out, carried it with her, tucked it into her journal like something worth treasuring.
“You kept this?”
She was suddenly very fixated on the teacup beside her.
“Well, well. You really have been carrying me around all these years, haven't you?” He tapped the paper against his palm. “Bit smitten, are we?”
She made a disgusted noise. “Want to match noses with Montgomery?”
He ignored her threat entirely in favor of needling her further.
“Clearly, you enjoy my face far too much to mar it.”
His chest felt oddly tight amidst her cursing and scowling. He had spent the last four years watching over her from a distance. But she had been doing the same, hadn’t she? Neither of them had let go.
And now, she was right here. Sitting in his office, warm and safe, drinking his tea, still sharp-tongued and infuriating and wonderful.
Sebastian dropped the clipping back onto the desk between them.
“You do realize you never actually broke up with me, right?” He asked easily.
She blinked. “I - what?”
Sebastian leaned in.
“You can’t just reveal that you’ve been pining after me all these years and expect me not to act on it.” he murmured, voice low. “You were still my girlfriend when you left, and as far as I've ever been concerned, that never changed.
She went still, and Sebastian knew that look.
She was debating whether to hex him or kiss him.
Either way, he would call it a win, because either way, she was finally in front of him.
She had always kept moving.
It was the only way she knew how to stay alive - never lingering, never stopping, never giving anyone or anything a chance to pin her down. She spent four years ducking into alleyways, slipping through train cars, leaving entire towns behind the moment she felt eyes lingering on her for too long.
And yet, she was back in front of a set of eyes that was particularly lingering.
Sitting in Sebastian Sallow’s office, wrapped in his blanket, drinking his tea, staring at the desk of the only man who had ever come close to keeping up with her.
And Merlin, he was watching her.
Like a foregone conclusion he had already made up his mind about, and was simply waiting for her to catch up.
It made her restless.
“Alright.” She said abruptly, standing and brushing off the blanket. “This has been fun, but I should really -”
“You’re coming home with me.”
She froze mid-motion.
Sebastian leaned, unbothered, against his desk, arms crossed, as if he had just suggested the most natural thing in the world.
“I - what?”
Sebastian regarded her as if she were being intentionally obtuse.
“My place. Tonight.” He tilted his head. “Was I unclear?”
She scoffed, shaking her head as she grabbed for her coat. “Sebastian, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
She hesitated.
Sebastian stepped forward until he was right in front of her, a wall of warmth and muscle and sheer presence. And suddenly, she was looking up.
Not just a little - a lot.
Sebastian Sallow was not the soft, reckless boy she had left behind. He had grown into something broader, something taller, something wholly unmovable. He was solid in a way that made the space between them feel suddenly too small, that made the air feel heavier, that sent something instinctive and submissive through her.
Her mouth went dry.
Sebastian hummed, tilting his head slightly as he studied her.
“You’re still worried about me.” He mused, voice infuriatingly self-assured.
She forced a scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Sweetheart…” He murmured, stepping closer, crowding into her space until she had no choice but to take a damn step backward. “Do you honestly think I need your protection?”
She swallowed thickly, pulse picking up. “That’s not -”
“I’m not some schoolboy practicing spells in a secret hideaway anymore.” He interrupted smoothly. “I’m an Auror. I don’t just take on dark wizards. I hunt them. I’ve spent the last four years facing worse than whatever third-rate thugs have been chasing you.”
His voice dipped, low and impossible to tune out.
“And you think they’re going to be the ones to take me down?”
She had no words. No quips, no deflections, nothing. Her brain had gone completely blank.
Sebastian cocked his head, mock thoughtful.
“Actually, now that I think about it - what does that say about you?”
Her brow furrowed at that, trying to cut through the haze of whatever spell he had her under. “What?”
“Well.” That smirk was pure sin. “You’ve been dodging them for four years, haven’t you? Outmaneuvering them, slipping through their fingers, unable to fend them off, and forced to run away. And yet, somehow, you think I’m the one who needs to be protected?”
“I have to admit,” He mused, “it stings a little.”
She blinked at him and gods help her - she nearly swooned.
Sebastian knew it, too.
His grin was devastating.
“There it is.” He murmured, like he had just won some long-fought battle.
“Cocky bastard.” She cursed quietly, though it carried no real heat.
Sebastian softened.
“Come home with me.” He said again. “Just for tonight.”
She hesitated.
Sebastian waited, not moving closer or stepping away.
“Fine. One night.”
He shrugged, entirely unbothered.
“We’ll see.”
She groaned, but he saw the telltale twitch of her lips.
Sebastian just grabbed his cloak and held open the door.
“Shall we?”
She hesitated just a fraction longer.
Then she stepped past him.
And for the first time in four years, she wasn’t running away.
She woke up warm and comfortable, wrapped in the thickest, softest blanket she’d been under in months.
It took her a moment to place where she was.
Then it all came rushing back.
Sebastian.
The Auror Office.
His infuriating smirk as he told her she was coming home with him.
But what came after - that was where things got strange.
Because nothing happened.
No heated arguments. No old wounds torn open. No tension that led to kissing that led to hands that led to…
Nothing.
Sebastian had brought her into his home, made her tea, and then, like some picture-perfect gentleman, showed her to the guest room. And that was it. He’d left her alone. Like she was some distant acquaintance in need of lodging.
Like she wasn’t the woman he had chased after for four years.
She turned her head, frowning at the soft morning light filtering through the curtains.
Sebastian Sallow was not a patient man. At least, he hadn’t been. And yet, last night, he hadn’t pushed. Hadn’t so much as tested the waters.
She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling.
What exactly was his game?
Eventually, she forced herself upright and noticed the folded parchment left on the nightstand.
His handwriting.
She unfolded it and scanned the message.
Duty summoned me.
I’ll be back before noon. Help yourself to anything.
(Yes, I know you’re going to snoop. Try not to make a mess.)
- S.
He knew her too well.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she padded into the hallway and caught the scent of coffee lingering in the air. She followed it to the kitchen, and the sight that greeted her was… unexpected.
Because it was immaculate.
There was not a single dish in the sink. A neat row of coffee mugs on the shelf. A tidy arrangement of creature comforts and necessities tucked into the cabinets.
Sebastian’s home wasn’t just clean - it was mature.
And that was what threw her.
Sebastian, for all his brilliance, had always been reckless. A strategist in battle but a chaotic disaster in day-to-day life. This? This was new. There was even an extra cup next to the still-hot coffee pot waiting for her.
She stared at it.
Then she sighed and grabbed it, bringing it with her as she ventured further into the house.
Oh, she was certainly going to snoop.
The night prior, she'd been exhausted and in a bit of a daze when he'd brought her into his home like a stray feline. There had been little time, opportunity, or even desire to rifle through his living space and take a tour of it. Now, however, she'd been stupidly left to her own devices with all the time in the world…
The next room she ventured into was a sitting area, warm and inviting. And, of course, full of books.
She rolled her eyes - some things never changed.
But then she actually looked at them. They weren’t just Auror training manuals or combat techniques - though there were plenty of those. No, the books were on everything. Alchemy, Astronomy, Theoretical magic, Ancient history…
Her eyes landed on a well-worn copy of a dueling strategy book, pages dog-eared, notes scribbled in the margins.
Still a try-hard.
She trailed her fingers along the spines.
It wasn’t just that he was still learning. It was that he still learned for the sake of learning. Sebastian had always been hungry for knowledge, not just for power but for the love of it. That hadn’t changed.
She reached for a book tucked against the side of the shelf and pulled it free, scanning the title. The Psychology of Dark Magic and the Criminal Mind.
She raised a brow.
The edges were worn from repeated readings. She flipped through the pages, scanning the underlined passages and margin notes.
Still thinking his way around every problem.
Still trying to understand.
Still trying to fix.
She shook the sentimentality away.
There was one last key place to check, and whether it was a mistake or not, she was going to look anyway.
The bedroom.
She hesitated for a fraction of a second in front of the door before pushing it open and strolling inside like she lived there.
It was as neat as the rest of the house. The bed was made. There was a wardrobe against the wall, door slightly ajar. She stepped closer and opened that as well to survey his attire.
Auror uniforms, neatly pressed.
Dark dueling robes, stitched with green and silver embroidery.
A Slytherin crest over the heart of one of the sets in the very back…
Of course.
Her fingers skimmed over the fabric, a memory surfacing unbidden. Sebastian, grinning at her across the dueling platform. The way his eyes gleamed when she charged him first, like she always did.
She swallowed.
Then, against her better judgment, she turned her attention to the nightstand. A watch, a few personal items, and a small silver band.
She stilled.
Not a wedding band. A ring.
His ring.
The one he used to wear on his right hand when they were teenagers, that she had gifted him when they first started dating.
Anne had given him endless grief over it, called him pretentious and a show-off for its absurdly ornate design.
But he had kept it all the same, because it meant something.
She shouldn’t care that he still held onto it - that it was meticulously maintained and carefully set on his nightstand. She shouldn't care that there were no other rings or jewelry or feminine trinkets in the room or house as a whole. Shouldn't be relieved that he lived alone with no hint of any others.
But she was pleased.
Forcing a step back from both the nightstand and the thoughts, she noticed a paper tucked between two books on his desk.
She shouldn’t look.
She absolutely shouldn’t look.
She looked.
Snatching it up immediately, her eyes scanned the parchment, hungry to glean more insight into just who he had become over the years.
At the top was a name.
Her name.
And next to it, every single city, town, hamlet, and country she had passed through in the last four years. All her carefully crafted aliases, the names of inns she'd rented rooms at, when she'd visited a Healer, the odd jobs she'd worked.
Her breath caught. Sebastian hadn’t just known where she was, he had been keeping tabs on her. Watching over her even as she insisted on keeping distance. She felt like an idiot. He'd known everything all along and had simply let her think she was ten steps ahead…
A strange, unbearable feeling settled in her chest, and she wasn’t sure what to do with it. Then, before she could even begin to process, the front door clicked open.
And Sebastian Sallow himself walked in.
His eyes landed on her instantly, and a slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips.
She went still.
Sebastian watched her like a bloody wolf who'd cornered prey and was all to pleased with how easy the hunt had been.
“Find anything interesting?”
She barely had time to slap the papers back on the desk before he, utterly at ease and smug as ever, already knowing exactly what he’d just walked in on, strode over to her with an infuriating amount of amusement. She floundered for words.
“Well…” He drawled, shutting the door behind him and tossing his coat onto a chair. “I’d ask if you made yourself comfortable, but it seems you’ve already taken care of that.”
She opened her mouth, an excuse half-formed, but he was already standing directly in front of her. She backed up instinctively, trying for nonchalance, but the edge of the desk dug into her spine.
“Just confirming my suspicions.” She replied, refusing to show how much he rattled her. “You’ve gotten boring in your old age.”
Sebastian laughed lowly, unfazed, gaze drifting lazily over her as if he was memorizing every single detail.
“You think so? Funny. You seemed pretty invested just a minute ago.”
She pushed off the desk, refusing to be cowed by his presence. “If I’d known I’d find nothing but Auror paperwork and old books, I wouldn’t have wasted my time.”
Sebastian hummed, stepping aside as she brushed past him.
“I suppose the names of every single bastard who’s been after you are also boring, then.”
She stilled.
Sebastian watched her, soaking in the way her breath caught.
“You should know…” He said, deliberately slow. “They’re almost all taken care of.”
Slowly, she turned to face him.
Sebastian took his time removing his gloves, stretching and smirking like a man well-pleased with his work.
“You being in one place made it much easier, you see.” He tucked the gloves into his pocket and grinned. “I hardly had to hunt at all.”
Her pulse was still racing, but for an entirely different reason now.
He had done it. In one day, he had hunted them down, rounded them up, wiped them off the board like they were nothing. She had spent four years running. Sebastian had spent one day ending it.
She swallowed. “And the ones who weren’t caught?”
“I’ve got a team on their scent.” He shrugged. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“You’re…”
“Efficient?” He offered.
She glared at him. “Frightening.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She should have felt relief.
And she did.
But more than that, she felt… something else.
Because she had spent years surviving, constantly moving, constantly looking over her shoulder, and he had swept in and ended it in a single stroke simply because she'd given him her blessing to take her in for the night.
As if he had always been meant to, and he was just waiting for her to exhaust herself running and shirk enough of her pride to let him know she needed him.
“You really should just stay.”
She wavered, fighting the ridiculous urge to just let him talk her into it. Into his warmth. His certainty. His damnably smug, all-knowing confidence.
“Forever?” She quipped, half-hearted, testing.
Sebastian chuckled quietly, stepping closer; a hand bracing against the desk beside her, his body blocking out everything else.
“Of course.” He replied easily. “Did you think I’d go through all this trouble just to let you leave again?”
Her pulse spiked, because this close, he was entirely too much. His voice. His scent. The sheer undeniable weight of his presence.
Sebastian wasn’t asking. He was staking his claim.
She had spent four years dodging shadows.
Sebastian Sallow was not a shadow.
And she knew, deep down, she had never stood a chance against him.
She inhaled, fumbling with the last stubborn shreds of her independence and pride. “That’s awfully possessive, Sallow.”
“Well, you are mine.”
And then finally - finally, like she'd wanted him to do last night - he kissed her.
He did not ask permission, nor did he hesitate because he didn't need to. He was right, and they both knew it.
She was weak as his hands found her waist, pulling her flush against him as he kissed her like he'd never stopped wanting her.
Like this was his due.
And she let him take it.
Her fingers buried in his hair, back pressing into the desk. She was dizzy and breathless with the unbearable realization that this was exactly where she was supposed to be all along.
Sebastian pulled away, just enough to murmur against her lips, a low, knowing drawl. “Took you long enough.”
She let out a shaky breath, giddy and ruined and completely, utterly his after tasting him again after so long.
Then, with a smirk of her own, she pulled him back in.
Because after all this time…
She didn't even want to run anymore.
Four long years spent never stopping, never looking back, never allowing herself to want. And now, Sebastian had her trapped.
Pinned.
Caged.
At his mercy.
She loved it.
Because fuck, he was relentless.
His mouth devoured hers, hungry, insistent, teasing her with his tongue before pulling back, only to claim her again. He was so hot, so solid, so unbearably close, his body pressed against hers, his hands gripping and claiming.
Her thighs quivered under his bruising touch, breath stuttering as his fingers dug into the plush of her skin, just shy of where she needed him, of where he hadn't touched her in years.
Sebastian hummed against her lips, amused, pleased, teasing her with slow, deliberate rolls of his hips.
He was so hard.
And she was long since ruined.
She whimpered, shuddering, gripping at his shoulders, his hair, anything to ground herself.
Sebastian chuckled darkly.
"Look at you." He purred, nipping just below her ear.
"You’re already wet for me, aren’t you?" He slid his hand higher, pointed, feeling the way she already began to soak through the lace beneath her skirt.
She squeaked, undignified and face burning as her hips instinctively tilted into his relentless touch.
"Sweetheart…" He drawled, fingers tracing higher but still not giving.
"Did you really think I’d let you go again?"
She whimpered, trembling, lost in him. Always the one with the upper hand, she had no chance of besting this new Sebastian.
Sebastian pressed his forehead against hers, breath hot and voice a whisper of pure, wicked promise.
"You’re mine." He murmured, his fingers finally slipping between her thighs, pressing against her soaked core. “You always have been.”
She gasped, arching, moaning, and Sebastian groaned in response, his own body tensing as if holding himself back took every ounce of restraint he had.
"Fuck." He breathed out, voice strained, his fingers brushing against her, giving the most infuriatingly small bit of friction.
She bit her lip, eyes fluttering shut as she relished every slow, deliberate stroke of his fingers, impatient for more. She had always been his, and she knew it - he'd only loosened the leash a bit to let her roam over the years.
Collar firmly back in place now, though.
Sebastian watched her, enraptured, his own breath shaky, his hips rolling in a slow rhythm against her thigh.
"Say it.” He commanded, his lips brushing against hers.
She moaned, lost, wrecked, completely undone, but still not able to form those words and officially relinquish her days of running around.
"Say you’re mine."
She whined, gripping him tighter, her nails sinking into his back.
Sebastian smirked, his free hand cupping her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze as his hand stilled thanks to her continued refusal.
The bastard.
Chest rising and falling too fast, every nerve in her body frayed, burning, and desperate - she caved immediately.
"I’m yours."
Sebastian groaned deep and primal, something raw and hungry snapping free inside him. And then he kissed her hard, his hand renewing its work.
Possessive. Claiming. Unyielding. Dominant.
She melted into him, trembling, letting him take everything.
Sebastian gripped her tighter, lifting her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her towards the bed, hand still teasing her.
And Merlin help her, Sebastian was going to completely consume her, and she was all too obliging.
Her body burned where he touched her, his hands bruising, greedy, worshipping as he carried her across the room, her legs locked around his waist, nails sinking into his shoulders. He barely made it to the bed before slamming her against the wall beside it, pinning her upright there.
His lips were ravenous and filthy, trailing from her mouth to her jaw to the sensitive skin of her throat.
This was his punishment for all her evasion, and she was more than content to reap what she'd sowed.
"Four years." He growled, his teeth scraping against her throat. "Four fucking years."
She gasped, head falling back against the wall as he kissed lower, his free hand slipping beneath her blouse, brushing over bare skin and the swell of her breast.
"You left me starving, sweetheart. Do you have any idea what that’s done to me?"
She could barely think, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling, needing. She had spent years aching for this man, dreaming of his touch, longing for him even when she knew she had no right to.
And now - he was finally here.
And fuck he was hard against her, his body grinding against hers in slow, unbearable friction.
She whimpered, her hips shifting to chase more of his touch. Sebastian chuckled, his fingers drifting to tease the edge of her panties.
"You want me to touch you properly, don’t you?"
She whined, quivering, her breath catching as his fingers toyed with the fabric. She was dripping for him, completely undone, already trembling beneath the barest touch. Sebastian smirked against her skin, his teeth grazing the shell of her ear.
"So impatient." He mused, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric, finally brushing against her fully. “Good. So am I.”
She jerked, gasping, her fingers tightening in his hair. Sebastian groaned, his own breath coming faster as he felt just how wet she was.
"Fuck…" He breathed out her name. “All this for me.”
Sebastian’s free hand dropped and gripped her thigh, pulling her open, spreading her wider
"You can take more." He coaxed reverently. "Can’t you, sweetheart?"
She was nodding frantically, panting, wrecked without even realizing.
Sebastian grinned, two of his fingers finally sliding inside through her slick folds. She cried out, her body arching and hips bucking instinctively into his touch.
Sebastian groaned, his forehead dropping to her shoulder, his cock throbbing painfully against his trousers as he felt her tighten around him.
"Oh, you’re perfect." He praised, curling his digits inside her and dragging them down.
She was so grateful for his hand bracing her thighs, because the way she shook, even wrapped around his waist…
Sebastian watched her, drinking in every gasp, every shudder, every perfect little sound she made. Pressing his lips against hers, swallowing her moans, he fucked her with his hand deeper, needing her to come.
Sebastian couldn’t wait anymore.
Not after four fucking years of wanting her, chasing ghosts of her, losing himself in the ache of missing her - only to finally have her right here, in his arms, writhing, moaning, trembling for him.
His witch.
"Look at you." He pulled back and muttered, hot against her ear. "You’re tight, sweetheart - so fucking wet.”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn't respond with anything remotely coherent - not when he was touching her like this, fucking into her with his fingers like he owned her.
"Sebastian -" She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders, her hips grinding against his hand, chasing the pressure.
"That’s it." He growled, his thumb brushing against her clit. "Give it to me, you disobedient thing - I want to feel you come for me."
She was so close, too close - his voice, his hands, his body, the way he held her up like she weighed nothing, the way he kissed her through it all.
She couldn’t even try to hold back.
With a shattered, breathless moan, she fell apart, her body tensing as pleasure crashed through her.
Sebastian bit back a moan of his own as she clenched around his slowing fingers, his cock straining and eager to take their place.
He mouthed along the column of her throat, nipping and muttering praise and curses in turn while she shuddered.
"That’s my girl."
She was still gasping, still shaking, barely coming down from the high before she felt him shifting, withdrawing his fingers and leaving her empty and wanting before tossing her mercilessly onto his bed.
And then she felt him against her immediately, hovering overtop of her and the outline of his shaft pressing into her in a way that sent a whole new wave of heat through her still recovering form as he stripped her of her remaining clothing - whether he tore it off or managed to wrangle it onto the floor unscathed, she couldn't care less.
She swallowed, her fingers shaking as she reached for the buttons of his shirt, fumbling, needy, desperate to feel him.
Sebastian chuckled again, dark and low, gripping her wrist.
"You want more?" He murmured, his lips brushing her ear.
She whimpered, nodding frantically and biting her lower lip.
Sebastian smirked, rolling his hips against her, letting her feel every inch of him.
"Then beg for it.”
Sebastian lifted his fingers which had just been used to turn her into a mess to his mouth, brown eyes locked on hers as he licked them clean, savoring the taste. His tongue flicked over the pads of his fingers, and she let out a trembling breath, heat coursing through her like wildfire.
“Can't wait to get addicted to that all over again.” He mused, watching her flush.
She made a choking noise in the back of her throat, something entirely too needy, and he smirked, pleased. Then, he reached for the buttons of his shirt.
She watched, mesmerized, as he made quick work of them, shrugging off the fabric and letting it drop to the floor, leaving his torso bare before her. Broad shoulders, sculpted arms, a strong chest dusted with freckles and scars - he was all muscle, lean and powerful, honed over years of combat and training.
And he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
“Like what you see?” He teased, reaching for his belt.
She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly very dry.
Leisurely, he tugged his belt free and let it join his discarded shirt before working open the buttons of his trousers. The fabric slid down his hips, pooling at his feet, leaving only one final barrier between them.
She let out a shaky breath. “Sebastian…”
His gaze flicked to hers, wicked and entirely too proud of himself.
“Patience, sweetheart.” He chided, as if he weren't painfully straining the pre-come stained fabric holding him back from her. “Or did you already forget how to ask nicely?”
Her fingers twisted into the bedspread, nails digging in. He was going to make her beg. Of course he was. The insufferable bastard had been holding all the cards since the moment he walked through that door, and he was relishing it.
She swallowed her pride, lifting her gaze to meet his.
“Please.”
He tsked, shaking his head. “You can do better than that.”
Her cheeks burned.
“Please, Sebastian.” She tried again, voice softer, airier. “I need you.”
His jaw tightened, and something dark and triumphant flickered in his eyes.
“That’s more like it.”
Then, finally, mercifully, he shed the last scrap of fabric between them, and her breath hitched.
Oh.
He was as magnificent as she remembered.
Perfectly sculpted, thick and strong, already aching and twitching for her.
He saw the way her gaze lingered, the way her thighs pressed together involuntarily, and he groaned, gripping himself at the base with a lazy stroke.
“Careful, sweetheart.” His voice was rough. “Look at me like that for too long, and I might lose my patience.”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, pulse hammering in her ears. “Get on with it then.”
“Have it your way.” He said, finally settling between her legs, one hand gripping her waist, the other sliding down to tilt her chin up.
Then, with no more teasing, no more waiting - he leaned down and kissed her, deep and claiming, as he pressed against her, heat to heat, making sure she felt every inch of him before he sunk inside. She barely had time to brace herself before Sebastian truly took control.
She gasped as his hands gripped her hips harshly, holding her in place, his strength undeniable, his body enveloping her completely. His mouth trailed down her neck, biting, soothing, claiming, as he pressed in, unrelenting.
A wrecked, low groan escaped him as he felt her stretch to accommodate him, tight and clenching around his length, dragging him deeper, pulling him in.
“Fuck.” He hissed, voice raw and reverent, forehead pressing to hers. “So fucking tight for me.”
She whimpered, her legs locking around his waist, arms wrapping around his shoulders, nails biting into muscle. Sebastian’s smirk was sin incarnate, his breath teasing over her lips as he rolled his hips, pressing deeper, filling her to the hilt.
He had never been a gentle lover, but the way he was taking her with such ease...
“There we go.” He praised, voice honeyed and smug. “Taking me so well. Knew you would.”
She whined again, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure pulsed through her, stealing her breath. Sebastian pulled back just slightly before thrusting in again - slow, steady, impossibly deep.
“Sensitive there?” He asked softly, cocky, because he knew she was.
He'd never forgotten all the ways to touch her and bring her to heel. She could only pant and mewl, head tipping back and undone.
His hands splayed over her hips, tilting her just so before he set a rhythm that had her clinging to him, mouth falling open in a series of keening moans. Sebastian watched her, transfixed.
“Look at you…” He grunted, his voice thick with adoration and sheer, unrelenting hunger. “Fucking perfect. Meant for me.”
Her body arched into him, desperate, needing more, and Sebastian rolled his hips deliberately slow, tearing another whimper from her throat.
“Don’t worry, love.” He soothed, his lips pressing against her temple, her cheek, her jaw. “I’ll take care of you.”
And then he snapped his hips forward, his pace shifting from controlled and steady to something brutal. She cried out his name in response, clutching at him, nails dragging down his back and leaving bright marks that only fueled his arousal. Sebastian groaned, his grip tightening, his movements relentless.
He growled against her throat. “Say it.”
“I -”
Sebastian’s hand fisted into her hair, tilting her head to look at him while he fucked her.
“Say you're still mine.”
She swallowed, breathless, aching, ruined.
“I'm yours.” She barely managed through his relentless fucking.
A groan of pure satisfaction rumbled deep in his chest, and he rewarded her obedience with a particularly deep rock of his hips, cock deep as she could take him and had her sering stars.
She had no control.
Sebastian had stripped her of it completely - pinning her beneath him, pushing into her so deep and slow it made her dizzy, reducing her to nothing but the feeling of him, surrounding her, filling her, owning her.
And he knew it.
He could feel it in the way she tightened around him, the way she gasped at every harsh rut of his hips, the way her fingers trembled where they clung to his back, spearing crescent-shaped lines into his skin.
And Merlin, it was undoing him.
Sebastian’s jaw clenched, his fingers digging into her waist, his muscles locked as he tried to hold himself together, to draw this out just a little longer. But she felt too good, too soft, too hot and tight.
Too damn perfect.
A low, guttural groan ripped from his chest as he drove into her, his pace steady but barely restrained.
“Fuck, love -” He gritted out, burying his face in her neck, mouthing along the flushed skin as he tried to hold out.
Sebastian felt her walls clench around him, felt the way she pulled him in deeper, felt the way her body was already tipping over the edge once again for him.
He lifted his head to watch as she came undone beneath him.
She was so close.
Sebastian slid one hand between them, fingers seeking, teasing, rubbing slow, torturous circles over her swollen clit.
She gasped sharply, her body jolting at the extra sensation, at the ruthless way he worked her.
“Sebastian - ”
“That's it…” He pressed a kiss to her lips, his fingers moving in sync with his thrusts, dragging her higher, closer, pulling her to the breaking point.
She was trembling now. A shaking, panting, desperate mess. Sebastian felt a swelling of pride, drinking in the way she shattered so easily for him.
“I love you. So much.” He rasped, voice low and rough, breath mingling with hers.
She blinked up at him, dazed, eyes glassy with pleasure. Sebastian pressed deeper, grinding his hips, his fingers relentless until she keened, until her fingers tangled in his hair, and she was gasping his name.
“Tell me you love me, too.”
She choked on a sob, her back arching, her walls tightening, dragging him into her heat as she grappled with any sense of words beneath him before she finally managed to say it back.
Sebastian let out a broken groan, his entire body locking up, his rhythm stuttering as she clenched down around him and came, the sheer weight of finally being back with him too much.
And he couldn’t take it anymore.
He was gone.
“Fuck, sweetheart, I -”
He surged forward, sealing his mouth over hers, swallowing her cries as he finally let go.
His hips pushed forward, rough and desperate, chasing the high she had just thrown him into, his entire body shaking as he emptied himself inside her, filling her completely and muttering about string of affectionate praise against her lips.
And she took it, eager and tears pricking at her eyes her fingers still tugging at his hair and clawing at his shoulders, her body molding to his, her soft little moans dragging every last drop of pleasure out of him until he was spent from the intensity.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Sebastian let out a slow, shaky breath, pressing his forehead to hers as he tried to remember how to exist outside of her.
And gods help him, he didn’t want to.
A contented smile tugged at his lips as he finally lifted his head, brushing his nose against hers.
“I knew you’d be a good girl in the end.”
She huffed a breathless laugh, her nails dragging lightly down his spine, making him shudder.
“Shut up.”
Sebastian grinned, nipping at her bottom lip, his cock still nestled deep inside her.
“Make me.”
Sebastian didn’t move.
He stayed pressed against her, still buried inside, his weight resting just enough to keep her pinned - not that she was in any hurry to move either.
Breath still uneven, skin flushed and bitten and damp, she was a mess.
Spent, sated, perfectly ruined in his arms.
His.
His fingers traced slow, lazy patterns over her bare skin, soothing where he had gripped her too tightly, where he had left marks - his marks.
“You’re so quiet.” He teased. “Not used to that.”
“Too tired to argue.”
Sebastian chuckled, a warm, indulgent sound that made something deep in her stomach flutter. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, then another along her jaw, then another at the corner of her mouth.
“I’d say I did my job, then.”
She gave a breathless scoff, turning her head slightly to catch his lips with hers in a slow, languid kiss. It was lazy, indulgent, the urgency from before replaced by something far softer.
Sebastian sighed against her mouth, drinking her in, letting his hands roam idly over her, enjoying the simple feeling of her skin against his.
She was so warm.
So soft.
So his.
He reluctantly shifted to pull out, earning a quiet whimper from her. His heart clenched at the sound, at the way she clung to him even as he moved, as if letting him go was unthinkable.
Sebastian groaned softly, dropping a kiss to her shoulder.
“Don’t make that sound, sweetheart, or I’ll be tempted to remind you how much you can take.”
Her legs tightened around his waist instinctively before she huffed, shoving at his shoulder.
“You’re insatiable.”
Sebastian grinned against her skin.
“And you love it.”
Her fingers threaded indulgently through his damp hair, stroking lightly to ease the knots. Sebastian let out a pleased hum, nuzzling into her touch, his body relaxing completely against hers. They stayed like that for a long moment, tangled together in the sheets, basking in the warmth of each other, the scent of sweat and pleasure still thick in the air.
Then, with great reluctance, Sebastian finally sighed, shifting to roll onto his side, pulling her against him. For all her grumbling, she still affectionately tucked herself against his chest, her fingers splaying over his ribs as she burrowed into him. Sebastian pressed a final kiss into her hair, his hand tracing down her spine.
“To answer your earlier question, yes, you're staying forever.” He offered the statement with no room to argue.
“I thought that was already settled.”
Sebastian smirked, pleased, pulling her even closer.
“Just making sure I didn't fuck all the sense from that pretty head.”
She yawned, curling deeper into him, her breath warm against his collarbone. “What sense?”
Sebastian grinned, letting his fingers trail lazily along her back, over the dip of her waist, down the curve of her hip.
“Tamed and content. Just how I like you.” He teased.
Sebastian sighed deeply, his hold tightening, as if to make sure she wouldn’t slip away.
Four years apart.
Four years of running.
And now, finally, she was right back where she belonged.
“Glad you're still so obedient.”
She pinched his side and Sebastian laughed, then promptly flipped her onto her back, pressing her into the sheets again.
“Still got energy to fight, huh?”
She stared up at him, wide-eyed and completely at his mercy.
Sebastian grinned.
“Care to see if you can outlast me still?”
She squeaked, and Sebastian swallowed the sound with another searing kiss before nipping and pulling back.
"You know…" He murmured. "Just yesterday, the Ministry had you locked up for trespassing."
Still catching her breath, she laughed hoarsely. "Technically, I was evading an unjust bounty."
Sebastian grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And now you’re evading absolutely nothing. Except maybe sleep."
She tilted her head, peering up at him through half-lidded eyes. "You planning to let me get any?"
"Not a chance, sweetheart.”