He inhaled deeply every time she cut into his skin, and she let the sounds wash over, let them drive away the memories that frightened her. There were already a myriad of scars on his chest, but these would be noticeable, these would be hers. Her mark. It sent pleasure coursing through her to be hurting him like this, to be marking him like this. She laughed softly at his words. "Better," she murmured, calm now, hands completely steady. "It's really a pity about the location. If I had my tools, my drugs, my ways to keep you from dying too soon, you can't imagine the pain I could make you feel."