Hawke and I were not like that.
We were two opposing forces heading toward a massive collision that could either forge us or ruin us, and I was betting on the latter. How else could this end between us? He was determined to never accept me as his mate, and I was promised to another vampire.
And when I thought about it like that, it made these moments with my family—these unhindered, unthreatened moments in time—all the more valuable. So, I sure as hell wasn’t going to waste it pining for a future I was never going to get in the first place.
I set my drink on the bar, winking at my girlfriends before heading back toward the dance floor. I didn’t need to look behind me to know Hawke followed me, but what I didn’t know was if he was following me just to protect me or—
“Do you like violence, Princess?” Hawke whispered in my ear, his muscled chest pressing against my spine as he leaned over me from behind.
I turned slightly, just enough to look up at him. “What do you mean?”
He gripped my hips, moving our bodies to the beat of the music as he kept his lips at my ear. He pinched my hips hard enough to sting, and I arched backward against him. “This outfit,” he said. “The way half the males in this club are looking at you, thinking about you. You must enjoy violence, because if one of these assholes tries to act on their feelings, I’ll carve them up like their own personal butcher.”
Heat fluttered in my blood, and I spun around, gliding my hands over his chest and wrapping them behind his neck, never missing a beat. “Maybe I just like it when you do it.”
Hawke’s pupils blew out, the black expanding until only a thin strip of blue-green remained. Lust curled around the bond between us, flames licking down the very center of me. He growled, yanking me against him until no space between our bodies remained. “You don’t know what you’re saying—”
I put one finger over his lips, silencing him as we danced. My other hand traveled down and along his knives, gripping one of the hilts. “Tell me I don’t know what I’m saying one more fucking time, Hawthorne, and I swear on all gods that I will cut you.”
Shock rippled over his features, followed by a smirk that was equal parts sex and sin.
A dark heat shivered down my spine at the lust in his eyes, the hunger. He liked the idea of me hurting him, and I…
Damn him.
I liked it all.
The thrill, the danger, the idea of pleasure edged in pain.
I loved all of that because it was one-hundred percent Hawke.
The beat swelled around us, and Hawke adjusted accordingly, moving his massive thigh between my legs as he dipped me, rolled me, dancing with me like we’d done it a thousand times before.
I forgot my grip on his blade, instead succumbing to the way we moved together, the music pulsing in time to my racing heart. I forgot the roles we were supposed to play, the vampires we were supposed to be—me, the royal princess, him, the lowborn assassin. He was so much more than he ever gave himself credit for. He was fire and joy, a combustible cocktail that made my heart race, my thighs clench, and my soul soar whenever he walked into the room.
And before I could stop myself, I smiled up at him like I would’ve if he were just a regular vampire asking me to dance. I smiled up at him with all the hope and wishes in the world that we could’ve been granted time. Time to grow and learn and bond. Time enough to show him just how damn wonderful he was.
Hawke halted our dance, his eyes widening on my smile. “You’re exquisite,” he said.
“You’re the best partner I’ve ever danced with,” I said, and being a royal princess at the vampire court? I’d danced with enough partners to know there was no better than Hawke, but I wholly believed that had more to do with us together versus Hawke’s skills on the dance floor.
A scowl replaced the relaxed lines of his face, and his grip on me loosened. “In three weeks, you won’t be allowed to dance with anyone else.”
I swallowed hard, the truth of what my life was about to become crushing the joy in my heart. “It has to be done. It doesn’t matter what I really want,” I said, looking down between us, wanting so badly for the moment to stretch on forever.
Hawke tipped my chin up to look him in the eyes.
And my heart skipped at what I saw—not anger or rage or regret.
Just Hawke.
Pure, unmasked, Hawke.
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t give you if the circumstances were different,” he said, his voice rough, guttural. “Whatever you wanted, I would find a way to make it happen.”