Page 218 of Marked By His Hunger

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And she was not alone.

“She’s crossing,” Bannerman said hoarsely.

“I know.”

My jaw clenched.

Decision.

Now.

Or lose her.

I brought my wrist to my mouth and bit down hard.

Blood welled instantly, thick and dark.

Power surged through it.

Ancient.

Cursed.

Bound.

“Forgive me,” I muttered.

Then I pressed my bleeding wrist to her mouth.

For a heartbeat—nothing.

Then—she latched.

The pull was immediate.

Violent.

Not gentle.

Not careful.

She drank.

Greedily.

And I felt it—the bond roaring to life.

Her magic recoiling inward.

Her soul—thank the pitiless Gods—her soul snapping back along the thread that bound us.

“Come back to me,” I growled, voice breaking now. “Please, mate. I will not be without you—come back!”

The words tore out of me without permission.

“Ek elska þik, Unnasta. I love you, mate!”

Her body jerked.

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