"What do you want, Rabbit?" His green eyes levelled on me in that way that felt like they were cutting through me. "Do you want my mark?" He made it sound horrifyingly intimate. I couldn’t think of a single time that Vanquish had ever asked me for anything. He was always the terrifying presence commanding me. Dictating my movements. Forcing me to leave my hut, to eat, to socialize. The one insistent on knowing my every thought. "Wh-what d-does that m-mean?" I stuttered out. Thinking I knew what it meant, but even more desperate to know for certain. I barely remember who I am. Do I even fully understand any more, what it really means to be mated? I’d heard all the terrifying things the she-wolves spoke of. Being killed during mating or marking. And some of the brutality of their mates under the Mating Moon. But I also knew it meant other things. It means never being hungry. Never wondering
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