Page 157 of Marked By His Hunger
I had almost let him bite me.
I had almost begged for it.
That wasn’t control.
That was surrender.
And I didn’t trust myself enough to know the difference.
But by the next Friday, the hunger had become unbearable.
Olaf could hear my stomach growling across the dining hall.
Dietrich rambled about spell-craft while I stared at my plate like it had personally offended me.
None of their chatter resonated with me. I couldn’t participate, couldn’t focus on their pleasant conversation.
“Excuse me,” I muttered.
And that desperate wave of hunger crashed into me before I even made it to my feet.
Chapter 19-Serena
I took my smoothie and plate of fish tacos out into the courtyard, craving solitude.
Not because I wanted to be alone.
Because I needed to figure out what the hell was happening to me without three pairs of worried eyes watching my every move.
The night air hit me the second I stepped outside—cool, sharp, almost too clean, like it stripped everything unnecessary away and left only what mattered.
The firepit in the center of the courtyard burned low, embers glowing beneath slow, deliberate flames that didn’t flicker so much as breathe.
Shadows stretched long across the rune-carved stone.
Everything here felt aware.
Not welcoming.
Not comforting.
Just watching me.
Judging me.
Asgarheim at night wasn’t a school.
It was something else entirely.
Something older.
Something that had seen things like me before—and was waiting to see what I would become.
I sat anyway.
Set the tray down in front of me.
Tried to be normal.
