Page 190 of Marked By His Hunger
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Something they answered to.
The bond flared.
Sharp.
Bright.
Alive.
And suddenly—Raven.
Not physically.
But him.
His presence surged through me like heat through frozen veins. Hunger, still there but quieter now, steadier.
Not gone—never gone—but different.
Tempered.
Focused.
And threaded through it—concern.
Fear.
Not of me, but for me.
I gasped.
The darkness rippled.
The spirits shifted.
And for a heartbeat—they leaned closer.
Not to take.
To listen.
“What did we do?” I whispered.
The question wasn’t just mine.
It echoed.
Through him.
Through the bond.
Through whatever had just been forged between us.
Something answered.
Not a voice.
A sensation.
