Page 217 of Marked By His Hunger

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Her body was ice beneath my hands.

Wrong.

So fucking wrong.

“Serena.”

No response.

Her lips moved—but not in a language I recognized from this life.

Ancient.

Human.

Broken by pain and fury.

Her magic lashed outward, pulling harder, wider, dragging more of the dead toward her like a collapsing star.

She was feeding them.

Unknowingly.

Uncontrollably.

If this continued—she would burn out.

Or worse.

She would become something that never returned.

“I will not let you go. You must come back to me, Unnasta. Come back!”

I grabbed her shoulders, grounding her as best I could, forcing my presence into the bond.

Nothing.

She didn’t see me.

Didn’t feel me.

She was too far gone.

I felt it then—the other pull.

Not hers.

Not mine.

Hel.

Not the goddess herself—but the realm.

The edge of it.

The boundary where souls lingered.

She stood on it.

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