UNLEASH | D.M (UNRAVEL BOOK 6)

[ 09 ]

Anxious and excited footsteps rushed down the grand marble staircase of the Malfoy Manor the minute Narcissa announced to the two gentlemen that the others had come back from their raid. It had been later than any of them had expected but what mattered was that everyone was back now.

At first, they were relieved to hear that the Dark Lord's army had returned. Word is that Harry Potter had been sighted and according to their intel, he was indeed being transferred into a safe house. All that was left was to find out which of the houses belonged to the Order would be kept in. It would mean that their mission tonight had been a partial success and that was at least some good news compared to nothing, right? 

However, the second Aion, Draco and Narcissa laid their eyes on the hoard of Deatheaters covered in rips, wounds and all bloodied up. Their nervousness started to spike and relief faded away into shock, especially when they saw their loved ones. 

Although there were bound to be injuries, no one expected that the Deatheaters would be affected by the battle that occurred. It seems like the Order was more formidable than they thought. No one foresaw the night to take a sharp turn to be this way, and certainly not Aion nor Draco.

Narcissa quickly hurried over to her husband, circling Lucius's waist to support him as his mask tore off his face, displaying the injuries he suffered from the duelling he had with Arthur and the other members of the Order. The lady of the manor gasped, eyes welling with concern before she helped him to get patched up, but not before she saw Aine and the master of the Deatheaters, causing her to halt her steps.

"What are you doing?" Aion questioned, his voice slightly raised in agitation when he saw a ring of the circle forming around Aine and Voldemort, Deatheaters scurrying away to give their master space but also to barricade it to prevent Aine from running away and anyone else from interfering. He approaches the group, Draco following from behind. 

He hasn't spoken a word but the look on Draco's face contorted into one of confusion and anger quickly. A look that made Narcissa flinch since she knows how well her son tends to hide his emotions. Yet, when it came to the girl he loved, he was always surprising her with all of the expressions he wore.

No one answered Aion and Aine only kept her eyes forward at Voldemort's, matching the fierceness and power he radiated. Her gaze was unwavering, blazing even brighter with strong confidence than the passionate dancing flames lighted on the hanging scones. Not even a hint of remorse or fear. She wasn't guilty of what she had done or said. If anything, it was her father that disappointed her tonight. 

And yet here he was, allowing her insult to dig deep into his heart; redirecting it towards his daughter in anger for not being competent enough to take down Harry Potter himself, for being beaten by little magic tricks. That was how it always was with the Dark Lord, whenever he felt humiliated and offended, he would show the authority to cover his flaws. To remind everyone in the room that he was the most powerful, and most feared just because of his superiority complex.

"You dare to insult me? Your father?" Voldemort scoffed, still flabbergasted by his daughter's harsh words from earlier. He circled a hand over to Aine's throat, wrapping her neck tightly in his grasp.

Aine winced and a strained cough left her lips. Her face was getting red as she clung to his arm, pushing his nearing body away from hers. She stretched her neck in hopes of breathing better but she could already feel her airway closing.

Draco's blood boiled instantly when he saw how Aine was being treated by her own father. It wasn't just the wounds on her body or the fact that everyone was just watching for it to happen. His fist balls up as rage flashes through his silver eyes and he lunges forward, forgetting his place in this house and the reputation his family has in the ranks of the Dark Lord's army. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!" he yelled, pushing through the gaping masses, eyes only looking at Aine alone.