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My breath hitches, and my pace falters for just a moment before I find it again. I’m steadied by his hands and the low sound of approval that escapes him.

I press my face into the curve of his neck, overwhelmed by the building sensations. “Mark me,” I murmur, my voice fading to breath, yet he still hears me because his grip on my hips stills me.

“Little mage. . .” The words come out strained.

His mouth hovers at my throat, his breath warm against my skin, his fangs just barely grazing the place where my pulse is racing out of control, and for a moment, he doesn’t move.

“You don’t understand what you are asking me for.”

My fingers tighten on his arms, my breath uneven as I try to focus on his words through the heat still flooding my body.

“I do,” I answer, even though I don’t, even though I only understand the pieces that matter right now, the ones that beg for proof of being chosen in return.

His hand slides up my throat, not gripping, just resting there, his thumb brushing lightly over my pulse. “So you finished reading the book?”

“I read most of it. I know it will break your curse and the curse on your kingdom, that we’ll be bonded.”

“If I mark you,” he says slowly, “you will crave blood. Did you read that part?”

My gaze holds his. “I know. But I won’t become a vampire,” I say quickly, hoping I didn’t read that part wrong.

A soft, almost disbelieving chuckle brushes against my throat as his lips follow it, pressing there gently.

“No, it wouldn’t make you a vampire,” he murmurs. My breath stutters when he pulls back, my gaze searching his face.

His hand moves to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing beneath my eye slowly.

“My kind carries venom,” he says finally. “For binding.”

My breath catches. “Will it hurt?”

“No, my venom will sink into your blood, into your bones, and it ties you to me in a way that cannot be undone, not by distance, not by time, not by death itself.” His forehead rests against mine. “My venom will bind to your magic, to your blood, and it will change you, not into something else, but into something . . . more.”

I swallow.

He senses the tension in my body, and his voice softens. “You’ll still be a mage. You’ll still keep your humanity.” His thumb presses lightly over my pulse again. “You will still be you. Just . . . an immortal version. One I can keep forever.”

His words hang there for a fraction of a second.

“Okay,” I breathe, finally surrendering to the bond.

“Okay?” He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching my face.

“Yes, okay, you can mark me.”

His hand fists in my hair, pulling my head back just enough to expose my throat, his eyes locked onto mine like he is memorizing this moment, like he is making sure I understand exactly what I am allowing him to do.

“Say it again,” he murmurs.

My pulse hammers.

“I want you to mark me,” I repeat, stronger this time, even as my breath shakes.

That is all it takes.

His mouth finds my throat again, not gentle this time, when his fangs sink deep enough to draw a sharp gasp from me—

But his bite is different this time, and I can smell the venom as it floods my system, taste it in the back of my throat.