Chapter 22: The Mark

Morven's POV

The moon stood straight overhead, and we stood on either side of the Stone.

Duncan had taken off his coat and laid it on the rock.

He had taken off his shirt too, and the cold did not touch him.

The scar through his eyebrow showed white in the light.

He did not step closer.

"Tell me what to do," he said.

"Kneel."

He knelt on the frozen leaves, in front of me, and looked up.

The Stone hummed under my boots, low and steady.

I put one hand on the back of his neck.

"Terms," I said. "No mark. No claim. My own door."

"I remember."

"They're void."

His breath caught.

"You'll say it clearly," he said.

"I'm saying it clearly. I choose you. Nobody handed me to you."

I pulled his head to the side and bent to his left shoulder.

His skin was hot against my mouth.

I bit down, hard, until my teeth broke the skin and his blood ran into my mouth.

Duncan groaned.

The bond lit up in my chest.

I felt every nerve he had, bright and loud.

Under it came a rush of something that was only his love, so large that it hurt.

I let go and wiped my mouth.

"Now you," I said.

He rose and took my face in his hands.

He kissed the blood from my lips.

Then he turned me, gently, and swept my braid over my shoulder.

He put his mouth on the curve of my neck.

"Say it again," he murmured.

"Yes."

His teeth went in.

It burned, and then it was the best thing I had ever felt.

I cried out, and my knees went, and he held me up with one arm around my waist.

It wasn't a leash.

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