Turning away, I smirk at my little bird as I palm my small knife from my waist. She gasps as I spin and slice his neck. His eyes widen in shock, and he sputters as blood squirts and pumps from the wound. He can’t stop it, and I put my face directly in his as he dies, seeing the light dim from his eyes. “She is mine. Mine!” I roar. I watch him die, and then, still feeling that need roaring through me, I turn to face my woman. She’s watching me with fear and desire warring in her eyes as I step closer. Good, she should fear me. I could burn her as easily as she could consume me. She knows I’m
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