The sweat on their skin was just beginning to cool when Ethan suddenly froze. The heavy, exhausted rhythm of his breathing hitched. He was still draped over her, his chest rising and falling against hers, but his gaze had locked entirely onto the side of her neck.
In the dim, shadowed light of the bedroom, a faint, bioluminescent violet light began to pulse beneath her skin. The jagged, crescent-shaped brand—the mark Collins had forced upon her—was reacting to the intense, raw energy of their intimacy. It throbbed like a resentful heartbeat, trying to reassert its claim.
Ethan’s face went completely blank, his jaw hardening into granite. The lazy, satisfied smirk vanished. "Look at this," he muttered, his thumb coming up to press harshly against the glowing skin. "It’s glowing. It's time
