injuries from the bastard tossing him around all morning.
“No, no, you’re good. You’re doing great, honey,” Kara said absently as she reached over, took one of his hands and gave it a reassuring squeeze which only made him bite back a bloodcurdling scream because he was sure that the bastard had broken his hand about an hour ago.
“Dying,” he groaned, wondering why she wasn’t calling 911 for him.
“Do you want to go again?” Christofer asked, at least having the decency to realize that he was dying.
“No,” Drew said, coughing as he rolled over onto his back, “I think I’m good.”
“Good,” Christofer said, walking away only to pause to pick up his sketch pad as he made his way out of the training room.
“Kara?” Drew said after a few seconds.
“Hmm?” she murmured absently as she continued to enjoy her sandwich.
“Kill me?’ he begged, praying that she loved him enough to put him out of his misery.
“Sure thing,” she said, clearly patronizing him as she continued to savor her sandwich.
He considered asking for one with the hopes that it would help the healing process, but he really didn’t feel like risking his hand. So instead, he closed his eyes, calmed his breathing and forced his body to change as he manfully bit back a scream of agony as his body healed.
Once he was healed, he huffed out a sigh, placed his large head on his mate’s lap and decided to call it a day. When she decided to use his head as a tray for her plate, he simply told himself that was how his mate expressed her undying love and devotion to him.
As long as she didn’t go for his balls, he could believe whatever he wanted, he decided as Kara absently reached down and ran her fingers through his fur, letting him know that she fucking adored him, which was always an excellent quality to have in a mate.
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