Mate (Bride, #2)

by Ali Hazelwood

I can’t be awake as I clutch the plastic handle and walk around Irene’s chair, dazed but determined. But I know what I must do. I know that it’s right. Someone drags Koen’s chair to the side to give me better access to him. Four hands keep him still, pinned to the chair, but there’s no need. Koen isn’t thrashing or wriggling away. There is no pleading, nor an attempt to convince me that I’m overreacting. He sits quietly, looking up at me like I’m a queen. His life and death are but my decision. He wouldn’t dream of objecting. If I want to carve his heart out of his chest, he’ll crack his rib cage open and lie prone for me. My hands tremble, but not too much. I can do this. I can. “You can do this,” Irene reminds me. “You are owed.” I nod. This is my right. “I’m sorry,” I whisper at Koen, letting the tip of the blade graze the soft spot on the side of his neck. I’ve kissed that spot. Licked it. Buried my face in it. I adjust my grip. I’m sorry, I think. With a firm swipe, I slice the ropes that tie his wrists together.

this is so stupid. absolutely no tension