Kinsley’s POV

I eye the mark carefully in the steam-ridden mirror. It’s been a few days since it was settled on my neck, the sight of it a wonder to my eyes, to my soul, the pinkish scar nothing like the others I have hidden all over my body.

I lean forward, a pretty sheen of light bursting the mating mark into a disarray of pink and red, like a masterpiece on my throat, a forever tainting indent of my pale skin where it shows I belong to someone.

Finally, I belong to ...