Page 166 of Marked By His Hunger
The word echoed.
“My bloodline was punished. We carry hunger that does not fade. It sharpens with time. I have mastered it—mostly. But when I told you that you were my fated mate something changed.”
The confession cost him.
I could see it.
“The restraint fractured,” he continued. “The bond activated somehow. And I-I feel you constantly.”
My pulse kicked up.
“Feel what?”
“Your hunger. Your anger. Your desire. And your doubt.”
Heat crept up my neck.
“And you? What do you feel?” I asked softly.
His eyes burned.
“Hungry. For you. Always you. I fight the urge to claim you every moment.”
The words weren’t a threat.
They were honest.
“I do not trust myself,” he admitted. “Not with you.”
That hurt.
But it also made sense.
The matebond pulsed between us, undeniable.
“I feel you too,” I confessed.
His gaze sharpened.
“The hunger,” I said. “It’s not just mine.”
His nostrils flared.
“Weeks of distance have not weakened it.”
“No,” I whispered. “It’s worse.”
He stepped closer.
“So you see why I kept my distance.”
“And you see why I was angry.”
Silence stretched.
Fire crackled softly.
The castle beneath us thrummed faintly with ancient magic.
