Walker arrives a few moments later, and she and Hawke are able to go back to their quarters, to the alpha rooms she has helped make her own. She feels like she finally belongs to a place as opposed to shifting aimlessly. In the privacy of their rooms, she turns to him as he shuts the door and plants her hands on her hips.
“So?”
Hawke runs a hand through his hair, eyes still hard and dark with anger. “Someone sent a messenger for you.”
“Ming,” she says, a frisson of fear touching her under the skin.
“Yes,” Hawke grits out.
“And?” she asks.
Hawke’s lips pull back. The wolf is riding high against the skin. She can see him in the pale blue of his eyes, the white sharp sheen of his teeth. “It can’t be delivered.”
Oh. Sienna blinks. “You killed the messenger.”
“I had to,” he says. “He had a gun trained on Riley as he was delivering it.”
There is a hurricane inside of him, she thinks as she watches him. A hurricane to match the firestorm lacing her blood, her bones.
“Okay,” she says at last, crossing the room to wrap her arms around him. When he comes to her with blood on his hands, all she will ever do is accept. They are cut from similar cloths.
He slants a kiss over her mouth, strong and wanting and powerful. She can taste the fury, the lust there; she thinks to taste the beat of his heart. His hands are heavy on the line of her spine as he pulls her close.
“He won’t have you,” he growls out against her lips. Possession and need catches her right in the gut.
“No,” she says, for she knows that for sure. Either she will die, or Ming will.
Hawke blinks those terribly blue eyes at her, and kisses her once more, presses her back against the door and moves his hands over the lithe line of her body. Sienna arches into the touch and kisses back, her fingers light on the nape of his neck. She holds him tight, as he holds her; love comes on all days.
(No really, I love this, because that whole poem I've looked at the other way about Hawke's feelings for Sienna, but the reverse is true too because they are that well matched, and ugh.)
Walker arrives a few moments later, and she and Hawke are able to go back to their quarters, to the alpha rooms she has helped make her own. She feels like she finally belongs to a place as opposed to shifting aimlessly. In the privacy of their rooms, she turns to him as he shuts the door and plants her hands on her hips.
“So?”
Hawke runs a hand through his hair, eyes still hard and dark with anger. “Someone sent a messenger for you.”
“Ming,” she says, a frisson of fear touching her under the skin.
“Yes,” Hawke grits out.
“And?” she asks.
Hawke’s lips pull back. The wolf is riding high against the skin. She can see him in the pale blue of his eyes, the white sharp sheen of his teeth. “It can’t be delivered.”
Oh. Sienna blinks. “You killed the messenger.”
“I had to,” he says. “He had a gun trained on Riley as he was delivering it.”
There is a hurricane inside of him, she thinks as she watches him. A hurricane to match the firestorm lacing her blood, her bones.
“Okay,” she says at last, crossing the room to wrap her arms around him. When he comes to her with blood on his hands, all she will ever do is accept. They are cut from similar cloths.
He slants a kiss over her mouth, strong and wanting and powerful. She can taste the fury, the lust there; she thinks to taste the beat of his heart. His hands are heavy on the line of her spine as he pulls her close.
“He won’t have you,” he growls out against her lips. Possession and need catches her right in the gut.
“No,” she says, for she knows that for sure. Either she will die, or Ming will.
Hawke blinks those terribly blue eyes at her, and kisses her once more, presses her back against the door and moves his hands over the lithe line of her body. Sienna arches into the touch and kisses back, her fingers light on the nape of his neck. She holds him tight, as he holds her; love comes on all days.
*
Reply
how very dare you, emma
but this is so very good and them. cut from the same indeed and they both know what it means.
♥ thank you so much!! i'm just gonna go sob
Reply
(No really, I love this, because that whole poem I've looked at the other way about Hawke's feelings for Sienna, but the reverse is true too because they are that well matched, and ugh.)
Reply
Leave a comment