Page 151 of Marked By His Hunger

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Before you step out.

Before you forget why you’re staying away.

I forced myself backward, melting further into the alcove carved into the ancient stone.

She stopped.

Not moving.

Listening.

My hunger surged.

Her pulse—damn me—I could hear it.

Soft.

Steady.

Alive.

Too alive.

It called to me in ways I did not trust.

Not anymore.

Because the hunger no longer wanted to take from her.

It wanted to keep her.

To anchor her.

To hold.

To protect.

To claim.

And that—that was the most dangerous thing of all.

“I know you’re there,” she said softly.

The words cut through the corridor.

Through me.

I froze.

Do not answer.

Do not step forward.

Do not let her see what you become when you are close to her.

Silence stretched.

Then—she exhaled slowly.

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