Page 99 of Marked By His Hunger

---

Its incorporeal hands became claws of shrieking wind as it shoved another of the creatures over the cliff.

The Daemon howled as it disappeared.

The last slug-thing barely had time to react before my savior tore it apart with savage efficiency.

Silence fell.

Just rain.

Just ocean.

Just my ragged breathing.

And then—nothing.

My strength evaporated.

My limbs went heavy.

My magic receded like a tide pulling out too fast.

I collapsed forward onto my hands.

“Serena,”

His voice was closer now.

Closer than it should be.

I looked up.

He was kneeling in front of me.

Worry radiated off him in waves.

I felt it again—that strange emotional echo—like his concern reverberated through my own chest.

I thought it odd he knew my name, and when I asked him about it he told me.

I asked more questions and his answers were clipped.

Normally, that tone would have set me off.

I don’t take well to bossiness.

But beneath the growl was fear.

For me.

So when he said follow, I did.

And when I asked him if he was coming too, he replied, “Soon.”

It shouldn’t have hurt—but it felt like rejection and my knees wobbled with each step I took until I collapsed under the weight of it.

“Fuck. You should have stayed hidden,” he growled, coming up from behind me.

“I’m no one’s damsel in distress,” I muttered.

---