Page 72 of Hawke

Hawke reluctantly pulled away, and I felt the warmth of the kiss still lingering on my lips. His mouth was gentle and searching as I felt him on my cheeks, neck, and ears, and we both panted heavily. “I thank the gods now that I have you, Delilah. Because my first would have been a terrible mate for me. I was too blind to see that.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t you tell me what you were?” I asked.

Hawke kept his face in my neck, his hand cupping the back of my head. “We have rules set in place to keep the club safe—”

“I would have been understanding, like I am now! You know I’ve always liked you! You shouldn’t have gone through this alone. And your poor wolf,” I cooed.

He chuckled, pushing the hair away from my face. “There has never been a second chance, mate. Becoming a rogue meant your life was over. You couldn’t mark a chosen mate because your soul was too broken from the original bond breaking. We were cast out from our packs, our homes. We were shunned.”

I frowned. “That’s awful! What about your family?”

“It’s the way things work where I’m from. That’s why Locke and Grim created the Iron Fang. For all the rogues to come together. We live a little longer when we’re around our own kind, and we can–”

“Go save others that need to be saved,” I finished for him.

Hawke nodded. “Protect those that need it, a last chance at redemption before we die.”

“It doesn’t sound like you need redemption from anything,” I said firmly.

“No, those that are a part of our club were rejected for dubious reasons. They were not evil, just had selfish mates who gave in to their own selfish desires.”

“We were always meant to be his,” the voice said. “Don’t make this complicated, just follow your heart.”

That was certainly easier said than done. I’d been thrown through the ringer here.

“Then why now? Why do you think I’m your mate now?” I asked.

“I’ve always known, but I didn’t believe it. I didn’t believe you could be mine, not after I’d been rejected and was dying. Like I said, there has never been such a thing!” he said exasperatedly. “Hell, I’m still dying, but when I saw Grim and Journey, how happy they are. How he swears up and down that she is his mate and has claimed her as his–”

“Then you started believing,” I muttered.

Hawke nodded, and I slapped his shoulder. “We could have been the first-second chance mates, and you blew it!” I flung my head back in laughter. “You are a stubborn old wolf, aren’t you?!”

I pulled away the blankets, and the sound of my movements was the only thing that could be heard as Hawke gaped at me.

“I think it is high time I’m in charge here. Obviously, you don’t know how to control your feelings for me, so I’m just going to take things into my own hands.”

I crisscrossed my legs on the bed, staring down at him. I crossed my arms, raising my breasts a little higher, and his eyes dropped to take a gander. “Now, tell me why I am sick. You keep blaming yourself for that.”

Hawke took his claws and ran them through his hair. After he did so, I pulled his hand into my lap to feel the sharpened points. He showed me how he could will them in and out of his body, how his body hair could be regulated as well, giving him a grizzly man’s appearance.

We did this without saying a word as I examined his body, even pulling his chin down and looking inside his mouth. He had more rows of teeth than a human would. The molars in the back were few, but his carnivorous teeth were plentiful and sharp. Why I had never noticed before, I wasn’t sure.

“Go on.” I shooed him with my hand. I continued to rake my hands down his body. He was only wearing joggers, and I wanted to check his toes for claws as well. “Tell me about my sickness and why I got dizzy and had a panic attack all alone in my room yesterday when you went god knows where.”

Hawke frowned, not taking my joking manner. He sat up from the bed and wrapped his arms around me. “I really didn’t know, Sunshine, I’m so sorry.”

I tsked, still trying to touch his toes.

“It isn’t your fault. It’s not a big deal. I feel much better. I’m probably PMSing plus the PTSD about you not coming back might have been a factor, but it’s cool now.” I smiled, ready to move on.

Life was too short to stay angry, to hold grudges. And now that I was receiving more answers, I felt much better about where we were going.

Hawke didn’t huff with an agreement. Instead, he had me straddle his lap and cupped my face. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he said again.

I sighed heavily, annoyed. “For what, puppy?”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped.

---