The Heartwood lustmord and wargasm

"I will do my best to remember both," Luke answered with a wink. There was no time for him to say anything else, his gaze snapping back to the monarch as it dropped on its knees. Luke's breath caught in his throat, his paws froze to the ground, and he stared at the elk. Even as his companion broke from his side to flank the king, Luke remained for a moment, before he stole off to the opposite side. The elk's ear swiveled toward him, it knew he stalked him, but its gaze held firmly on Lasher. Luke waited with baited breath now, not crowding the elk, but anticipating the moment its spirit left its body behind. In the back of his mind he was already thinking about the taste of its meat and the span of its beautiful antlers. It had been a long time since he had eaten elk, and even longer since he had seen such a crown.