Page 196 of Marked By His Hunger

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It was about what I could become if I embraced it.

And whether that would save me?

Or turn me into something the dead already recognized as their own.

Chapter 24-Draugr

I dragged a hand through my bed-tousled hair, the coarse strands catching between my fingers as if even they resisted the pull of reality.

How many times had I made love to Serena during the night?

The question lingered, not for the answer—but for the sensation it summoned.

Fragments.

Heat.

Her voice breaking against my name.

Her body arching beneath mine, soft and strong and wholly mine.

How many times had I kissed my way across her skin—memorizing every inch as if it were scripture? As if the Norns themselves had carved her into existence for me alone?

It hadn’t been indulgence.

It hadn’t been excess.

It had been necessity.

My hunger had demanded her.

But more than that—it needed her.

I needed her.

There was a difference.

A terrifying one.

At around five, I had taken her back to her dorm, carrying her as if she weighed nothing—though I knew now she anchored me more firmly than anything ever had.

I’d watched her sleep for a moment longer than I should have, committing the rhythm of her breath to memory before forcing myself to leave.

She needed rest.

Real rest.

Not the kind stolen between waves of passion and blood and bond.

We had no classes today. Saturday.

But I had plans.

Gods help me, I had plans.

I was taking Serena out.

On a date.

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