He wears the brand, the mark of the Rogue.

She brands him with her touch, searing herself deep into his skin. Her heat warms his skin when she has already withdrawn. The sweet scent of her perfume, her shampoo, her lotion lingers in his clothes and his body.

She’s marked him more indelibly than Sinister, more irrevocably than the Guild, more passionately than ever Bella Donna did. Her claim on him is complete and startling. Where once his aura rang with promiscuous charm, now it speaks he is one of two.

This is love. This is forever.

This is real.