Page 131 of Hawke

The bare bones of his chest, the hunks of meat that hung to them like a terrible horror movie hack job, made my stomach roll. My wolf quieted that part of my body, not wanting us to look weak in front of our mate.

But boy, was I sick.

“Delilah, why?” Shane whispered.

Did he really not get it? Was he that oblivious?

He didn’t deserve an answer, didn’t deserve an explanation of it all.

My wolf didn’t think so either and with a quick glance at our mate watching on in pride, she plunged our sticky, long claws into the chest cavity.

Once the tendons, the arteries, and whatever else was stuck to his blackened heart were pulled away, we tossed the muscle to the other side of the room.

I panted, watching as it thumped across the floorboard, leaving sticky, bloody heart patterns in its wake. It thumped against the wall, and I closed my eyes in gratefulness that it was over.

As my golden peach fuzz fur receded, I collapsed onto the floor. My breathing became heavier as I shut my eyes, unable to bear the sight of the destruction.

I couldn’t stand to see or smell anymore blood.

“Delilah!” Hawke ran forward, landing on his knees to pick me up.

He cradled my head to his chest. Blood was everywhere, and it was even on his body.

Ick.

“I love you, but you stink,” I groaned.

He chuckled, pulling me into his arms, and took long strides to the bathroom.

Before I knew it, the hot steam of the shower filled the small bathroom, and he put us both under the highest jet setting and let the red liquid fall from our bodies.

The heat felt good, and his large hands steadied me as he pulled off the wet clothing and threw it on the bathroom floor without a care.

“Are you okay, Sunshine?” His thumbs rubbed over my cheeks, and his eyes searched mine, looking for signs of any life in them.

“I killed someone.” I swallowed. “I didn’t enjoy doing that, even if they deserved it.”

Hawke pulled me toward his chest, rubbing the shampoo into my hair. He bathed me, running the soap along my body as I stared into the stark white bathroom tile.

“If it makes you feel better, he isn’t dead yet.” He winced.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “What?”

Are you freaking kidding? After all that dramatic pulling out his heart, throwing it across the room, clawing his body into freaking Swiss cheese... He isn’t dead yet?

My wolf shrugged inside me, shaking her head.

Dear. Lord.

Hawke pulled a fluffy towel from the nearby railing, wrapping it around me, and pulled me out of the shower with care. He fastened it around my chest, making sure it was secure.

“We burn the heart, or stake it, along with his body. And let’s be honest. He got off too easy. Grim and I are going to have some fun with him later. Give him what he really deserves. But you did great for the first time, and if you want to do it again—”

I groaned, very unlady-like.

“I don’t have to be a part of that, right? Please say no.” I tapped my forehead repeatedly against his chest.

Hawke tilted my head back with both of his large hands, cupping my face. His smile grew wide, and his nose traced mine as if to beckon me to open my eyes. “Of course not, my sweet mate. He’s the Iron’s Fang’s problem now.”

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