Soon all that's left is a moaning pile of a bloodied face. I lean down to his ear, whispering a deadly threat, an example for all those seeking my mate. "She's mine Astor, blood or not, I don't share."
I wrap my bloodied fingers around his head. Astor moans softly in protest, but he knows he's already dead. Twisting his neck painfully to the side, I relish in the satisfying sound of it snapping. Rotating it further to the side, I pull his head towards me, a squelching sound echoing his screams as he is decapitated. I raise the head and look into the eyes of a bastard child raised to fail. I feel no pity, no regret for killing him. I feel nothing.
I let the head fall to a snowy ground painted in blood.
I turn to see Carina still on the wet ground, I kneel beside her, picking her up into
