Just behind her—mere inches from where her back had hit the stone wall—was a carved wooden door.
Her assigned room.
Cruxius didn't hesitate for a second.
His hand snapped around her wrist again—the grip tight, practiced, and entirely uncaring of her frantic protests—and he yanked her backward. The door swung open with a sudden, loud jolt as he forcefully pushed her inside. The low-lit room swallowed them both whole, the single candle casting long, dancing shadows against the satin-lined walls.
"What the hell do you think you're—!?"The rest of her furious words broke apart in the air as he dragged her forward by the arm.
And threw her.
Hard.
