Daphne
Finally, he slept, still tangled in my hair, my arms, my legs, he collapsed beside me, and let his long, curling eyelashes drift down. His body was warm and relaxed, his breathing even and peaceful. I hoped some deep sleep would erase the dark shadows from under his eyes, and regular meals would fill in the hollows of his face. I let my fingers trail over the stubble of his cheeks.
I didn’t even really know who this man was, and yet I already loved him fiercely. How was that even possible? I felt like his blood was in my veins, and mine was in his, and we weren’t even marked. We couldn’t be marked, given he was a human.
I let my finger drift down the strong cords of his neck to the spot on his shoulder where my mark would have gone. I drew a half circle over the tendons
