Word Count » 3+
The burning on his back, numbed from sharp pain by the repetitive molestation of the keen edge of the hunting knife, sent strange flashes of heat through his limbs. It was unnatural for the canny creature to remain still as he was repeatedly wounded - Lean body resented the cool blade, the way it drew forth his blood. Only the devilish control he held over body and mind kept the male still beneath Tlantli's curved hips, his frame tensed but frozen in resolution.
He almost didn't notice when she finally stopped - That dull burning spread like flames down his spine, a serene pain, almost numbness. It was the strange, rough sensation of the woman's tongue caressing his oozing flesh that awoke the male to a knew kind of heat, a different burn that headed directly to his loins.
But again, Sirius was a stern man, resentful of those who took each whim and fancy without a manner of self-control, or of knowing what it was they truly wanted. Tlantli finished her administrations, and with it, her strange dominance - The wicked pixie rolled fluidly beside him onto the plush, reeking bearhide. Her body was strangely limp, as though it had been allowed some strange connection through tasting his blood; For a moment, a tremor of fear stilled the heat in his blood, and olive eyes watched her warily. She was, after all, the sisterhood of Eris - The Crone, a shaman that would soon be rumored to have some spiteful power over spirits and blood alike. Eris had called her a shaman; What curses could she be placing on him, even now, to make his body and blood long for her so?
The suspicion that came so naturally to the Boss faded fast. Although deeply mistrusting of the spiritual art of which she and Eris were priestesses, Sirius had some form of implicit trust within the Kimaris woman - She did not desire his Thistle Crown, and for now, the new King relaxed. Still, he watched her, but with a strangely lucid thoughtfulness - Almost a lackadaisical laziness. She was his to command, and with all her frightful strength, her submissiveness and loyalty to the Revlis man was very becoming. "Is it done?" He knew nothing of this art of hers - Whether it would need to be repetitively carved into his flesh, or perhaps cleansed with more than her tongue. The pain was unpleasant, but bearable in that it created finality within his new brethren. It marked them all as his - Members of the dark and terrible Family that Sirius so desired.
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