Page 209 of Marked By His Hunger
He explained the process—classification, historical use, power identification—but his words started to blur.
Because something inside me was already reacting.
Something old.
Something that recognized what was coming.
“My powers have been muted. Especially lately,” I said.
Muted.
God.
Why didn’t that scare me more?
“Ah,” he said. “The Institute does that. A lock, of sorts. To help you learn control.”
A lock.
My pulse spiked.
Before I could question it—he began.
The spell.
Wind tore through the room.
Not natural.
Not contained.
Something else had answered.
The red dragon on his shoulder stayed still.
Too still.
Like it knew.
The moment the spell snapped into place—everything went wrong.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Not absence of light.
Presence.
Thick.
Pressing.
The classroom flickered—and then—I was somewhere else.
Bound.
Cold.
And in pain.
