VICIOUSLY YOURS
He slid his hand from my lower back up to the base of my neck, his broad thumb tilting my chin up until I was forced to look directly into the silver storm of his eyes.
"Not quite," he whispered.
Before I could ask what he meant, his thumb pressed hard against the small cut on his own cheekbone, smearing a faint bead of fresh red onto his skin. He brought his hand down, dragging that bloody thumb over my lower lip, painting my mouth with his mark just as he had done in the wreckage of The Vault.
"Now," Julian purred, his dark gaze dropping to my crimson-stained lips, "it's signed in blood."