As Evanna tried to think of something to say, anything that would help her keep her heartbreak hidden, she reached up to rub at a slightly sore spot on her neck. Shock raced through her as she gently ran her fingers over what was definitely a bite mark. Scattered memories of their fierce lovemaking passed through her mind and she suddenly recalled that brief sense of a sharp pain on her neck before desire had fully engulfed her body and mind. The way Berawald paled a little, looking both worried and afraid, eased her shock and smothered her rising anger. He had bitten her but she felt sure it was in the throes of passion, something she found somewhat flattering. The only weakness she had felt at the time had come from that wild lovemaking, so she knew he had not truly fed on her.
“Ye bit me,” she said, trying to look cross as she stared at him.
“Ye bit me, too.” He pointed to the mark on his shoulder, feeling quite pleased with it until she grew pale. “’Tis naught, Evanna. ’Tis but a wee love bite.”
“Are ye sure, Berawald?” While part of her was thrilled that she might be enough like Berawald to have some future with him, another part was appalled that she could well be far more different that she had believed…