crocodiles cry for the love of the crowd

Sirius Revlis · 04-03-2012, 02:10 AM

[html]

Word Count » +3 :: <3

She was expecting further punishment. He could see it in her posture, in the way she moved to meet him at the center of the room. The entire dwelling smelt firmly of the girl, her authoritative scent claiming each inch - And yet, his presence alone swelled to overcome it, the sheer dominance oozing from his pores a chemical strength to overcome all else. It was in his very blood, this rule, this strength. She would know that now.

The girl came with bowed head, and although her step was graceful, the hunter's eye could pick each hesitance and each tenderness. Their wounds would be suffered in silence, for each was a prideful beast, and weakness was a thing he had taught her to despise above all else. It was the way of the predator. Only the strong survive.

Her body was bare to his gaze, and with skillful cunning he swept over it, seeking visible remnants of their bloody battle and finding few, finding only curves that had not been there once before, a succulence that confused and irritated him. Narrowed pupils darted back up to her face, loath to linger longer than necessary on proof of the woman that she had become as her dull greeting permeated the heavy silence. "Salvia," He said again, and yet this time, his voice was different - sympathetic, maybe. The venom was there, and in spite of the tigress' raw power, it would seep into her flesh and poison her just the same. That was his power.

He wondered if she was hurting, and in an uncharacteristic rush of pettiness, hoped that she was. Her betrayal had hurt him on a deeper level than the betrayal of any other - She had been given a special place within him, a special level of trust. The hurt there, inside, was a cold reminder of why such emotional attachment could not be allowed to take place.

The King straightened, his height just superior to hers, his weight probably almost equal. Sirius was a lean, sinuous beast; There was coyote in him, where there was dog in her. Perhaps that was why he was a King, and she was a Soldier. "I hate that you made me hurt you like this," The words were perfectly sculptured, natural as they fell from the maw of the manipulative sinner. It was her fault that he had brutalized her in such a way - Not only was it her fault, but it clearly pained him emotionally that she had forced him to such action. The weight of the offense was doubled. "Look what you made me do," His voice ached with such sincere hurt, as one clawed hand lifted to brush away some strands of hair to reveal the cut and slightly swelling bruise above one of her lowered eyes.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?