Page 133 of Marked By His Hunger
My pulse jumped.
“I—look, something happened when I met Raven.”
The name slipped out again.
Easier now.
More dangerous.
It felt like saying it anchored him somewhere inside me.
“Something I don’t understand,” I pressed, leaning forward despite the way my body still felt off, like my magic hadn’t settled back into place yet. “Professor, what is it with me and him?”
Her brow lifted—just slightly.
“You call the Draugr Raven, do you?”
Of course she knew.
Of course she knew everything.
Heat crept up my neck, but I didn’t look away.
“If the Draugr has not told you,” she said carefully, “it is not my place to rob him of that truth.”
Draugr.
Not Raven.
Not a man.
A title.
A warning.
A burden.
Monster.
My chest tightened.
“He told me some,” I murmured, suddenly protective of what little I did know. Of him.
Of whatever this thing between us was.
“But,” she continued, gesturing around the infirmary, “I can enlighten you on why you are here.”
Something in her tone shifted.
Not gentler.
Bigger.
Like she wasn’t just speaking as a teacher anymore—but as part of something older.
Something that had seen this before.
“The Asgarheim Runevald Institute was founded in 1666 by my ancestor,” she said. “Our purpose is singular. We take those on the edge of their power, and we teach them control.”
