“You also make a stupid one. You shouldn’t have come here tonight. If you had any sense, you’d have left this to the extremists. But you just had to be here, didn’t you? Had to listen to the cries of pain and howls of mourning, had to watch the bodies fall.” Sick fuck. He was soon to be a dead sick fuck. Dominic sliced out his claws and advanced on him.
Emmet jumped, his eyes widening. “The police—”
“Can’t save you from me. No one can.” It was ridiculous that he’d think differently.
Emmet edged back fast, still on his elbows. “You’ll never get away with—”
“Yes, I will.”
A pallas cat bit into Pierson’s foot, making him flinch with a sharp cry and—better still—come to a stop.
Swallowing hard, Emmet stared up at Dominic. “You’d really kill an unarmed man?”
“Yes.” Bending over, Dominic thrust his claws into Emmet’s chest, closing them around his heart. “You tried to take my heart from me, so I guess it’s only fitting that I take yours from you.” And Dominic yanked it out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Leaning back against Dominic as they settled in the freestanding tub, Mila sighed. Yes, this was what she needed. She mustn’t have shifted position much as she slept, because she’d woken stiff with some aches here and there.
The minute they’d returned to pack territory the previous night, they’d showered, washed off all the blood, and collapsed into bed—exhausted from the fight and adrenaline crash. She’d woken the next morning just as Dominic’s cock slipped inside her. His thrusts had been slow. Lazy. Gentle. For the first five minutes. Then he’d taken her hard and fast, pounding deep and snarling in her ear.
She hadn’t realized that he’d texted Grace, asking her to bring breakfast to their room, until Mila heard the knock on the door. After they’d eaten in bed, he’d ran them a bath. And so there they were.
Mila closed her eyes, enjoying the steam warming her face and his fingers idly skimming up and down her bubble-covered arms. Her cat was completely content to just lie there with her tail curled around her as they snuggled into their mate.
He dabbed a lingering kiss on her temple. “I like you this way.”
“What?” she practically purred.
“All soft and warm and relaxed.” Tucking his face in the crook of her neck, Dominic inhaled her scent, filling his senses with his little cat. Rumbling a growl of contentment, his wolf brushed up against her.
He’d figured the bath would help her shake off the fear that had still been fresh in her mind—the fear that she’d lose him, that she’d be all alone again. He understood it. Fuck, he’d never rid himself of that image of her covered in wounds. Wounds he’d been unable to address because he’d been bleeding to death on the fucking ground.
Lifting her wrist, he circled her pulse with his thumb, reminding himself that she was safe and well. Thanks to Helena’s help and their accelerated healing rate, most of their injuries had healed or were nothing but pink blemishes that would soon fade. He had one or two that might scar, though. And the puncture wounds in Mila’s neck were taking a while to disappear—hopefully they would.
According to the text he’d received from Nick, the police were taking the extremist attack very seriously, although that was probably because human firefighters were killed. The police had also been easy to convince—especially with the help of the pallas cat officers—that Pierson had led the attack, so the authorities weren’t particularly bothered that his car was there, but the human had mysteriously disappeared. Not after they’d seen just how much damage had been caused and how many unnecessary deaths there had been.
“I want to call Harley and ask how she’s doing,” said Mila. “But it would be a dumb question, wouldn’t it? It might be best to give it a day or so before I call her. What do you think?”
He swirled his tongue over one of the fading puncture wounds on her throat. “I’d say you’d be right to call her in a few days. She’ll be blaming herself for what happened, thinking she should have had better security measures in place. She’ll put all those deaths on her shoulders. Give Jesse time to put her back together.”
Mila sighed. “You know, I wish there was a way to destroy every last one of the extremists, but Trey’s right. You can’t kill prejudice. The bastards will always exist. We killed some in the battle, but others will spring up to take their place.”
He snaked his hand up her stomach and softly palmed her breast, smiling as her nipple tightened and dug into his hand. “As last night proved, wars are just senseless.” When she reached back and loosely hooked her arms around his neck, Dominic danced the tips of his fingers along her inner thigh while nuzzling her neck.
She let out a shaky breath. “I won’t be able to concentrate if you keep doing that. But I’m not complaining.”
Smiling, he nipped the tip of her ear. “Spread your legs a little.” She didn’t hesitate to give him what he wanted, just let her thighs fall apart. He loved that. Loved that her sex drive matched his. Loved that they both got off on the same things. Loved that her body always responded to him so eagerly. It was as if she were made for him.
But she wasn’t, he thought with a frown. She was made for someone else.
Instead of touching her clit as he’d planned, Dominic smoothed his hand down her thigh and said, “I noticed Adele and Joel were huddled together after the battle.” His wolf curled his upper lip at the mention of the other male.
Mila’s brow furrowed. It was an odd time to have a conversation about the couple, and there were other things she’d rather be doing. Like coming. “Hmm. I hope they work things out.” And that Dominic would switch his attention back to playing with her body. But he didn’t.
“Depends on how she takes the news of Dean’s death, I suppose.”
“Considering she can no longer deny his part in things, I doubt she’ll be grieving much. But so many shifters will be grieving hard tonight. One of them could have been me. I’m still pissed at you for getting stabbed, by the way.”
His mouth quirked. Dominic knew she wasn’t kidding. “My apologies,” he said dryly, which earned him a snort. His smile faded as a memory hit him. “I was pretty dazed when I was lying on the ground, bleeding.”
“Don’t remind me,” she grumbled.
“But I heard Joel cry out. Sensed you were worried for him. What was happening?”
“An extremist was hovering over him with a blade in his hand.”
Carefully sitting her upright, Dominic turned her to face him, keeping her legs on either side of his. “But you didn’t try to help him.” He knew he sounded incredulous. “You stayed with me.”
She frowned. “Of course I did. You’re my mate.”
It was really that simple for her, Dominic marveled. Although he wasn’t what fate had intended for her, she didn’t view him as a substitute for her true mate. Hadn’t chosen him merely because she couldn’t have Joel. No, despite that Dominic wasn’t predestined to be hers, Mila saw him as her mate. Her claim on him ran soul-deep. What she could have had with Joel really didn’t matter to her.