Marcus’s POV
The gray light of dawn was finally filtering through the dusty wooden slats of the cabin window, and I kept my eyes fixed on the surrounding tree line while my fingers rubbed the fresh scar on my palm, my mind completely twisted by the heavy pull of the blood bond that was now connecting my own inner beast to the sleeping girl on the cot. Cecelia was breathing softly now, the dangerous fever having broken completely just as the first sunbeams hit the porch outside, and her scent had settled into something calm and steady that kept tugging at my instincts, making me want to step away from the perimeter just to stand over her bed and ensure she was still breathing. I forced myself to stay put by the rotting window frame, pulling my satellite phone from my vest to get an update
