I was losing the battle.
The cold winter air of the camp was thick with the scent of fear, anger, and Silas's own bleeding wounds. To the Hollow inside me, it was a banquet. The dark vein on my neck was pulsing violently now, sending waves of pure, liquid heat straight to my core.
My vision was tunneling. I stopped seeing the angry faces of the pack; all I could see was the steady, heavy pulse in Silas's neck.
I took a step closer to him, my breathing coming in shallow, desperate pants. A low, purring sound—one that was entirely inhuman and deeply possessive—vibrated in my chest. I reached up, my fingers digging into his broad shoulders, pulling myself up to his neck. My lips parted, my teeth lengthening instinctively.
The gasps from the remaining pack members were deafening.
"She's g
