Vi hurt. Everything hurt more than it ever had. Her magick was dangerously close to breaking what little control she had regained by leaving the hall. She felt someone leading her out of the common room. She jumped when she heard the snick of the door closing.

“It’s ok,” a voice whispered in her ear. “I know what you are.”

Vi was starting to shake with the effort of controlling her magick.

“You need to feed, so feed,” Hadrian’s voice in her ear snapped the tenuous control she had on her magick.

She turned towards him and with blinding speed pinned him to the wall, a hand around his neck.

“Are you sure about this dhampir?” She whispered lightly scraping her now descended fangs against his neck. “Once marked you cannot undo this. You will be as bound to me as you are to Draco. Is that what you want?”

Hadrian’s pause made her pull away.

“I may not be sure about you but Draco is sure; Bricriu is sure and my magick is drawn to you in ways I’ve not felt before.”

“Are you the omega?” She asked.

“Neither of us is an omega in the traditional sense,” he replied quietly. “But I guess of the two of us, I am the more submissive one.”

Vi nodded. “And you’re sure about this?”

In reply, Hadrian pulled her head to the junction between his neck and shoulder.

“Drink,” he ordered. “You need it.”

“You trust me?” She asked against his skin.

“About as far as I can throw you,” he whispered breathily.