She sensed his heart rate spike as he dipped into his power, but with her arms wrapped so tightly around herself, she could do nothing as he lunged, closing the remaining distance and slamming into her.

The air whooshed out of her chest from the force, only to get caught in her throat when he wrapped a hand around it. He pressed a thumb under her jaw, forcing her head to tilt back sharply, while his other arm wrapped around her torso, his fingers hot against the base of her spine.

“Wrong,” he said. “We are mates, Veralie. That means you are mine. Marking each other is done for pleasure, but that one had been for protection.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she swallowed, having to push her words past the firm pressure on her throat. “I can protect myself.”

“I didn’t say it was to protect you.”

He leaned down, grazing his lips over the crease that had appeared between her brows. “It protected everyone else from trying to take you from me. Because if anyone even considers it, I will kill them without hesitation.”

Indignation flared. “I’m not some treasure you found, Jaren. I can’t be taken.”

“I know you can’t,” he whispered, releasing his grip to slide his hand to the back of her neck. “And I’m going to make sure of it.” Taking a fistful of her hair, he jerked her head to the side and struck, sinking his teeth into the same spot he’d marked before.

She cried out even as arousal soared inside her, responding to his touch like a fucking puppet. But unluckily for him, her anger was stronger. She pulled her arms out from where they’d been pinned between them, no longer caring about covering herself. He wouldn’t be able to see her breasts from the grave anyway.

Reaching up, she took two large handfuls of his hair and yanked at the roots as hard as she could, glad he hadn’t cut it yet. She was going to rip out every gods damn strand.

He unlocked his jaw from her shoulder, pulling back only far enough to run his tongue over the new mark, and a soft moan slipped past her lips. Fuck, she’d felt that caress all the way down to her core.

He smiled against her, his self-satisfied, male ego flaring in her chest. Rolling his hips into her center, he repeated the gesture, giving each puncture quick flicks of his tongue.

She shuddered, the two sides of her heart and mind warring with one another. The human she’d been raised to be was enraged he’d so blatantly mark her against her wishes, but the Magyki in her blood reveled in his need to claim her. Their bond practically purred at the notion.

He ground his hard length into her again, purposefully using her desire to his advantage. It only infuriated her more. She hated that she couldn’t block his front row seat to every feeling she experienced. The ass didn’t deserve to know how strongly he affected her.