POV: Alaric
Her body softened against mine, but the sounds of weak, sluggish blows still filled the air behind us.
She tensed again.
Her fingers curled against my chest. "Alaric, make them stop."
I shook my head. "No."
She pulled back slightly, brows furrowing. "They're already dying," she whispered.
"That was the idea, baby. Such people constitute a nuisance to society. It is best to wipe them out," I stood and lifted her into my arms, ignoring the way she gasped as I moved. "Wear this." I pulled off my shirt and handed it to her.
I carried her out of the clearing, back through the trees, ignoring the sickening, sluggish sounds of the two bastards fighting to the death behind us.
She didn't speak until we were almost at the house, but I enjoyed her silence and the way her soft breath fanned against my chest.
"Alaric?" She called, stopping me just when I was about to push the door open. I stopped with her still wrapped in my arms.
"Yes, love."
"What about June?" She asked.
