Amara
I could feel him—every breath, every heartbeat—even when he wasn’t touching me.
Lucian had left the room only moments ago, promising to return after briefing the guards. I’d nodded, still dazed, as the door shut gently behind him. But his presence hadn’t left with him. It lingered like heat after a fire, like the echo of thunder after the storm. I could feel the imprint of him beneath my skin, where his teeth had sunk into my neck.
I touched the spot now, fingers trailing gently across the two small puncture wounds. They were healing fast—faster than they should have—but the skin around them still pulsed faintly with warmth and something else. Something ancient. Something alive.
My breath caught.
Was this what it meant to be marked? To belong—not just to a man, but to something
