The cut was deeper than the one Enzo had given me.
A sharp hiss escaped me before I could stop it, like I was reacting to the pain Enzo should’ve felt.
Blood spilled from the wound, but he didn’t flinch.
His posture stayed loose, his body calm, as though pain meant nothing to him.
As though he welcomed it.
As blood dripped from his hand to the floor, Enzo reached for mine and pressed our wounded palms together.
His grip was firm.
Like he never wanted to let me go.
Warm blood slicked between our fingers.
He left it there forone second, two seconds, three seconds.
When he let go, it felt like I’d lost a vital organ.
His bloody palm rose to my cheek. He smeared our blood across my skin, his fingers dragging slowly over my face.
His grip tightened, as if he wanted the blood to seep beneath my skin, into my veins, to mark me as deeply as he could.
To infect me with himself so part of him would always live inside me.
The tension drained from my shoulders when he eased his hand away.
But the relief didn’t last.
His hand moved to my other cheek and did the same before trailing to my lips, coating them with our blood.
I couldn’t break eye contact when he gathered more from my cheek onto his finger and pressed it to my mouth.
I barely had time to react before he forced his finger past my lips.
I gagged, tasting the coppery tang of his blood mixed with mine.
He pushed it so deep I choked on it before slowly withdrawing it.
I watched in stunned silence as he tore off his mask and tossed it aside. It hit the floor with a quiet thud.
Our eyes met beneath the harshlights.
In that moment, during the ritual that bound me to him, I’d never felt more exposed.
His eyes were like fire, the burn consuming me from the inside out.
Agonizingly slow, he lifted his blood-covered finger and slid it between his lips, sucking it clean.
He closed his eyes, his shoulders loosening, as if the taste soothed every muscle in his body.
Like it was the drug he needed to settle himself.
He opened his eyes and stared back at me.
“She is Chosen,” the man standing beside us declared. “She is Sworn. The Fawn is claimed.”
