Page 198 of Marked By His Hunger

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And in that giving, she had undone me.

I had tasted centuries of restraint unraveling in a single breath.

I had tasted home.

“Fuck,” I rasped.

My hands shook.

Not with hunger.

Not entirely.

With something far more dangerous.

Devotion.

I had fed from countless vessels over the years, but never like that.

Never with intimacy.

Never with connection.

Never with the bond blazing between us like a living thing.

I was not merely fed.

I was tethered.

Bound.

Changed.

“Damned slave,” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face.

Because that was the truth of it.

I would burn kingdoms to keep her safe.

I would raze this entire island if anything threatened her.

And that—that was not the Draugr.

That was something else.

Something worse.

Something softer.

Something human.

I hated it.

I craved it.

I didn’t know how to survive it.

By the time I returned to her dormitory at three in the afternoon, I was shaking like a mortal.

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