Silver Moraine kill

faust did not hesitate. the beast lay still, its warmth fading, but its purpose fulfilled. his jaws parted, fangs sinking into the flesh just beneath the ribcage, tearing a strip free with practiced ease.
the taste of blood, rich and metallic, coated his tongue as he settled to eat, methodical, efficient. there was no hesitation, no waste. he did not gorge himself, nor did he wait—he took what was his by right of the hunt.
his green eyes flicked to the dark woman beside him, noting the satisfaction in her gaze. she was pleased, as she should be. it had been a good hunt, clean and swift. a rare thing.
he said nothing, but approval gleamed in his glance before he returned to his meal, the steady rhythm of tearing flesh and snapping bone the only sound between them.