Page 199 of Marked By His Hunger

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Nerves.

Actual fucking nerves.

I had faced down ancient beasts.

Fought creatures that devoured entire bloodlines.

And yet—standing outside her door?

I nearly turned away.

I looked down at myself.

Leather pants. White t-shirt stark against my pitch-black skin. My horns and runes were visible—always visible.

No illusion could mask what I was, not fully.

My wings remained tucked away.

Contained.

Like the rest of me.

The students in the hall parted instinctively as I passed, fear rippling through them like a scent.

Good.

Let them fear me.

Let them tremble.

The more they feared the Draugr—the safer my mate would be.

Mate.

The word hit again.

Heavy.

Unreal.

Serena Notte.

My mate.

Mine.

“Gods,” I breathed.

What had I done to deserve her?

She was everything I was not.

Bright.

Beautiful.

Powerful in a way that did not rot from the inside out.

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