Chapter 21-Draugr
The word came out rough, broken.
My vision snapped back into focus just in time to see her watching me.
Not afraid.
Concerned.
Gods help me, that was worse.
“You stopped,” she said softly.
“Yes.”
The word was forced.
Dragged out of me through clenched teeth.
Because every part of me screamed that I should not have.
“That’s good, right?” she added, uncertain now.
Good.
Right.
Words that meant nothing to a creature like me.
I dragged a hand through my hair, pacing once across the small tower space before forcing myself to turn back to her.
The fire crackled behind me, casting long shadows that flickered across the stone walls like restless spirits.
“You don’t understand what almost happened,” I said.
Her chin lifted slightly.
“Then explain it.”
Brave.
Too brave.
I closed my eyes briefly.
“You are not just desirable to me, Serena,” I said carefully. “You are sustenance. You are nourishment. You are my life’s force.”
Silence.
The words landed.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
“My hunger—this curse—it doesn’t distinguish between need and want,” I continued, my voice lower now, more controlled but no less intense. “And with you—it’s both.”
Her breath hitched.
I felt that too.
Through the bond.
Every shift in her emotion, every spike in her pulse—it echoed inside me now, impossible to ignore.
“I didn’t feel like prey,” she said after a moment.
“No.”
That came immediately.
Fierce.
Certain.
“You are not prey.”
Then what are you?
The unspoken question hung between us.
I stepped closer again—but slower this time, deliberate, giving her space to pull away if she chose.
She didn’t.
Of course she didn’t.
The bond wouldn’t allow it.
“You are the only thing that has ever made me want to stop,” I said.
Her eyes widened slightly.
“To stop what?”
I let out a slow breath.
“To stop being what I am.”
That truth stripped me bare more than any confession of hunger ever could.
The room seemed to still around us, the ancient stones of the tower holding the weight of the moment like they recognized it.
Her hand lifted, tentative, then settled against my chest—right over the glowing runes.
The contact sent a jolt through me.
Not hunger.
Something deeper.
“Your heart is racing,” she murmured.
“So is yours.”
We stood there, needy, lustful, breathing hard, filled with yearning—both of us balanced on the edge of something dangerous and inevitable.
The hunger hadn’t disappeared.
It never would.
But it had shifted.
Changed shape.
No longer just a force that demanded.
Now it waited.
Watched.
Focused entirely on her.
“You almost lost control,” she said quietly.
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t.”
Not completely.
Not yet.
I covered her hand with mine, pressing it more firmly against my chest.
“Do you understand what that means?” I asked.
Her gaze lifted to meet mine.
“Tell me.”
“It means,” I said, voice rough with the weight of it, “that you are the only thing standing between me and becoming exactly what they all believe I am.”
A Monster.
The word didn’t need to be spoken.
It was already there.
In every story.
Every whisper.
Every look of fear.
But she didn’t see me that way.
Not yet.
And gods help me—I would destroy myself before I let that change.
The hunger stirred again.
Quieter now.
Watchful.
Waiting.
And for the first time in centuries—I feared it.
Not because it might consume me.
But because of what it might take from me.
Her.
“Please, Raven. No more holding back.”
She was begging me, and I could not refuse her.
If I was destined for damnation, then she was coming with me—and for the first time in my long, lonely existence, I embraced hope.