Page 6 of Marked By His Hunger
A trick of light.
A story told to scare children.
But I know better.
I’ve seen it open.
Watched it breathe.
Watched their world with more than a passing curiosity.
I have spent countless hours there—unseen, unfelt, unwelcome.
Hiding in the shadows.
Waiting.
Waiting for something I have no right to want.
My chest tightens, something sharp and hollow twisting beneath ribs that remember life but no longer serve it.
Hope is a cruel thing.
Crueler still when it takes root in something already damned.
“You linger again,” Kenna murmurs, finally lifting her gaze to me. Her eyes are ancient. Knowing. Unforgiving. “Earth does not belong to you, Draugr.”
I let out a low breath that almost resembles a laugh.
“Neither does this place,” I reply.
My voice sounds wrong even to my own ears—too deep, too rough, threaded with something that has never been entirely human.
Never will be again.
Her expression does not change.
“It is the only place that will have you.”
Ah.
And there it is.
Truth, delivered without mercy.
I step closer to the desk, the air around me cooling as I move, shadows stretching in quiet obedience.
They cling to me. Always have.
As if they recognize one of their own.
Or perhaps they simply enjoy the company.
The contract lies open before her.
Ancient parchment. Rune-marked. Binding.
I stare at it for a long moment.
