Page 153 of Marked By His Hunger
“You know, if you’re going to hide from me, maybe you shouldn’t follow me,” she shouted at my back loudly and suddenly.
I stopped.
Damn her.
Damn the way she knew.
“I’m trying not to,” I answered before I could stop myself.
The words slipped through shadow.
Low.
Rough.
Too honest.
Silence fell again.
“Why did you say you wouldn’t leave when it sure as fuck feels like you already did? And why are you following me if you already made that choice?”
Because I cannot stop.
Because every instinct I have is tied to you now.
Because I am already lost.
I did not answer.
I couldn’t.
Because the truth would undo everything.
Instead, I stepped fully into the deeper corridors, letting the shadows swallow me whole.
The bond stretched painfully as I moved farther away.
Her presence dimmed—but never disappeared.
Never would.
That was the real curse.
Not the hunger.
Not the blood.
Not the centuries of restraint.
This.
This connection.
This need.
This impossible, fragile, living thing tied to something as broken as me.
I braced my hands against the cold stone wall and bowed my head.
