Alluryn

She's two hundred years old, and she just marked the one woman she was never going to be allowed to keep. Mika looks twenty-two. She isn't. She's something older and hungrier that wears a young woman's face and feeds — one careful sip at a time — on the wanting of strangers who wake up tired and never remember her at all. It's a clean arrangement. It's kept her fed, and it's kept her alone, which after two hundred years she's decided are the same thing. Then she comes up onto the top deck of a parking garage, sees a woman she has no reason to look at twice, and something older than the hunger sits up and says mine. Olivia Jacobson has a good life. A husband she loves. A career she's proud of, a house, a settled and pleasant shape to her days. She has also spent thirty-four years very carefully not looking at the thing that's been curled up starving underneath all of it — and now there's a mark on her she can't see, and it's waking up. She's changing at night. Wanting things a good wife isn't supposed to want. Feeling the pull toward a girl who is trouble in every language — and understanding, slowly and then all at once, that the girl feels it too. Mika knows how this ends. She's held enough hands while they went cold to know exactly what she costs the people she lets herself love. She should let Olivia go. She's not going to. Alluryn, Book One — a dark sapphic paranormal romance about obsession, hunger, and the terrible relief of finally being seen. First in a trilogy. Heat: explicit, F/F. This is dark romance — possessive marking, a hunger that costs, and a good marriage that does not survive what Olivia is becoming. The line holds: the mark uncovers what she already wants; it never overrides a no. No incest. No minors. 18+.