WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.
Helotes Lykoi
Word Count → 528 :: Late morning
God DAMN he hurt. Every movement the dark Lykoi male made was tight and the fresh wounds on his body threatened to split loose with ever twist of the muscle. Thank the heavens that Halo had kept her teeth and claws to his upper body only, for he was sure that if his legs would have gone through the same meat grinder as his back that would he not be able to make the trek to the grottos. It was still very chilly today, and fresh snow clung to the ground. He made his way to the steamy core of the territory as quickly as he could, for the promise of a hot bath was very enticing.
The previous two nights had been physically exhausting on the male, but ever so satisfying. Two females in two nights; he felt pretty high and mighty indeed. But the second female, oh that cold bitch, she had torn him to shreds! Helotes reached up to his shoulder where the puncture wounds were still moist, seeping clear and watery pus in an attempt to protect his sensitive flesh below. Yes, the bath is what he needed, not only for the wounds but to reclaim his scent, which had been covered by the stench of Zana, Halo, and sex.
He knew he was close when he passed Zana’s old home, the hollow tree now cold and abandoned. She had taken on a ward, a gray pup named Timori, and her new burden had forced her to leave the comfort of the tree to take refuge in the mansion. Helotes was not complaining, he liked having her around, though she was not here now, having been away for the last two days and perhaps to remain so for a while. As he passed Helotes reached up to flick at a twisted spoon that was hanging from the tree, before turning from it and heading to his ultimate destination.
The mist became thick, almost like a solid mass, in the cold air. He could hear the earthy rumbling of the springs, could smell the deep must of the water, and soon he came to the edge of the steaming pool. He removed his metal tipped staff, which he had begun to always carry with him when out on his own, especially after the attack of the wolf. Setting his weapon on the bank, Helotes then slowly stepped into heat of the bubbling water. It felt heavenly. He lowered himself in, too quickly, and when the hot liquid hit his raw wounds he gasped. It stung something fierce. Shutting his eyes he quelled the pain, claimed it as his own, and waited until the water turned the stinging into numbness. He sighed then, letting his whole body, including his head immerse before surfacing again. He noticed that the heat had indeed caused some of his wounds to open, and blood stained the water near them. It was of no consequence, let them bleed, they would heal up. Though her violence had torn him deep, he doubted he would scar, it seemed as if he had been blessed with a hide that was immune to such things.
His meeting with Halo had left Ezekiel with a peculiar feeling brewing in his belly. Even now, he did not doubt she was a threat to him…but this was only because, as his paranoid mind led him to believe, that she was out to gain allies. Alone, there was only one beast for him to contend with. Yet if she managed, as he feared, to corrupt his clansmen against him…well it simply could not be allowed. So while she returned to dispose of whatever evidence remained of her liaison with the Hydra, Ezekiel sought the man himself.
It was not a hard trail to follow. He reeked of musk, of the scent of sex and blood and the potent things that lingered. Ezekiel learned a very sordid tale from scent alone—being a man who had long survived in the wilderness on his senses and instincts alone, the Aquila could piece together the same sort of information that he might have gathered from a bull elk. There had been no alcohol involved, though he knew that testosterone was the most powerful drug of all, and it had not been simply Halo touched by the whore’s hand. Ezekiel’s jaw tightened.
While there was no law and no rule against such things, morally, he despised the abuse of love. This stemmed from his mother, who had abandoned Gabriel for another man. In Ezekiel’s eyes, this was the ultimate betrayal. Even if one was not truly bound—even if they were not mates—sex without the power of love behind it was ultimately without meaning. The fault too, in his mind, did not come from the women. Men were weak, and it was a weakness of the soul that allowed them to freely give away themselves for such carnal pleasures. Especially with cousins, of all things. There were others here who could have been taken; Vesper was beautiful in her own feral way, and Alma’s brilliant hair and soft-spoken voice made her extremely attractive to him. Not to mention the silvery coyote, Kastra, who he had found himself admiring more and more…
Yet it was not this alone that he found fault with. A man could be swayed by his loins, and he did not think Helotes (especially after this) was strong enough to stand against the Dragon of the Waste. Ezekiel growled lowly, deep in his throat, and his upper lip pulled away from sharp yellowing canines. If he had to face both of them, he was not sure he could succeed—even with aid, he was well aware of how Halo fought and that in close-combat, her skill with the sword would best anything he could do with a dagger. Especially if Helotes aided her, for he outweighed the lean coyote without a doubt.
His body eased into false relaxation, his face mutated into a mask of indifference. There was a skill for these things now, and he so dearly wished he had known of it long before he had first risen to Aquila. It had taken his sister, and the death of her lover, to bring forth the needed shell for the cannibal ghost within him. Rising from a crouch, he adjusted the weapon on his back and slid his bag back to his hip. It was light; he had used most of the supplies while visiting Hell’s Coast with his grandmother and Myrika.
The scent trail diverted north, crossing the river at its smallest point, and from here veered towards the springs. All throughout the misty area the stink was intensified; moisture often aided in such things. It would dissipate soon enough, but Ezekiel had no doubts within him what had occurred. Amber eyes sought out the darker hybrid, and soon found him sunken into one of the pits. For an instant (and it was a fleeting thought) Ezekiel thought of sending an arrow through his neck. It would end his troubles and his doubts easily. He recognized this was a foolish thing; Helotes had been loyal to him from the start, so it was equally likely he would remain…even if he was a weak man so driven by the sin of lust.
In the soft earth, the leader made little sound. It was his pelt that betrayed him, a gleaming golden-red thing that did not belong to these dull places of the world. He had been made for the fields of the Waste, if only too bright. He had not been made for this world.
He smiled so savagely that it nearly broke the spell of serenity upon his face. “You should really get those looked at,” he said cooly, advancing to the edge of the rocky area and leaning one shoulder against a nearby barren tree. “Wounds like that are prone to infection.” It was a double entendre, though he doubted Helotes would catch the meaning of such a thing. Especially given his assumed role as combat medic; Ezekiel was not as skilled as the jackal, but he was certainly more than capable of healing.
Word Count → 843 :: You get my LONGEST POST EVERRRR
The dusty fur of the dark Lykoi male turned a sodden black when quenched by the water of the spring. Sighing he raised his arms above him and behind his head to support it. The movement caused the tears on his back to sting anew, but he could already feel the healing affect that the heated water was having on them. Nevertheless, he would have to go to Enkiel for a salve of some kind eventually, he was sure that these wounds, even when kept properly clean, could infect easily. He dreaded that meeting though, even though once he was rid of this stench it would be easy to say that the wounds were received from training session where he had pushed Halo too far. It would be easy enough to believe. Helotes had no intention of letting on that he had been with the Triarii, as he was sure she didn’t have either. He had been careful to retreat to his room quickly after the encounter, and the first place he came this day was to the spring. If he was lucky, no one would know of what had transpired between them, and that would probably be best.
Helotes moved to stroke at the puncture marks on his shoulder, they ached so. She had really done a number on him, but he wondered how she was currently dealing with the wounds of her own. He was lucky that she had been too blinded by sexual pleasure to lash out at him for marring her so, but he had a feeling he would not be let off easily, and that she would have her revenge. This is how Halo played, she always had to be on top, to her it was her birth right. He wondered how Ezekiel managed to keep her at bay, for Helotes was certain that she would claim the Aquila position if she had the chance. But, in this case, the political subtleties of Inferni were lost on him, as they usually were. The only thing Helotes was concerned about was the protection of the clan members and its leaders through battle prowess; any petty government quarrels that happened behind closed doors were none of his concern, and his loyalty would remain with Ezekiel until such a time when a more worthy superior presented themselves; and this, Halo was not.
The thoughts of the political made his mind turn to the Caelum; Zana. Now that both nights were over, he could compare them side to side. For sure Halo had lived up to her reputation of the dragon, and their meeting had been a fiery one. But Zana, whom Helotes’ heart yearned for, she had been soft and forgiving, a clay that had been so wonderful to mold. But she was gone now, off on her missions to the clan; Helotes missed her already. If given the chance, Helotes would take her instead of Halo, though he would never admit this outright. The problem was, Helotes was in his heart a family man, and sex, eventually, would have to be intermingled with love. Zana had been the first female he had met that made him think that perhaps love was not lost on him, but he hesitated from asking her to be his mate. As selfish and cruel as it might be, he wasn’t sure if it would be well received by the rest of the clan if he took on the pygmy as his female. Therefore the Lykoi male was faced with a conundrum, one that he felt was not going to sort itself anytime soon, and he felt powerless as to speeding its progression.
He had been so deep in his thoughts that when the Aquila spoke at first he thought it to be a sudden onslaught of insanity, that he was hearing voices in his head. Still, the voice had had a definitive direction and Helotes turned to meet the gaze of the Aquila. He tensed in the water, a little disturbed by the silent coming of his leader, but he genuflected with the lowering of ears, Ezekiel. He said, before his mind had the chance to figure out just exactly what the golden male had said, Oh. Yes, I will have to visit the Imperium soon. His hand went up to his shoulder again before dropping into the water. Helotes eyes were averted for a moment, before he looked again at the man’s feet, Is there something you require of me Aquila? He asked, wondering if perhaps Ezekiel had sought him out for a specific reason.
The last time the two had interacted had been after Helotes having killed the wolf in Symera’s defense, and Ezekiel in return giving him the right to the pelt and the new position as Hydra. It was a rank that pleased Helotes to no end, for now he was marked as a true warrior for Inferni. Did the Aquila need his battle skills now? If so then he would have to get mended up sooner than he had anticipated.
It was easy to see, especially now, that the wounds did not come from any sort of training. He could not deny that fact—they were high on the shoulders, on his back, in places and ways that a trained eye could recognize. Certainly, had he not known any sort of medical knowledge, they might have been passed off as a training accident. Lord knew those two had been bloodying each other since Helotes had first approached the woman about lessons. Unfortunately for his two subordinates, Ezekiel had spent countless hours under tutelage and knew more about medicine then most. He could not compare to Enkiel, but oh he was no fool.
The mask on his face remained a careful smile, though the tips of his teeth loomed forth as the flustered man spoke. Hydra now, Ezekiel reminded himself. Though it was not entirely formally required, he had expected a kill from the man before claiming his rank. When the presentation of the thing had been presented, Ezekiel had done just that. While he would have liked the skull for the borders, he instead tanned the pelt himself and presented this to the man. Any doubts of him favoring wolfish cousins was evaporated by such a thing—no wolf would be comfortable with a dead man’s skin on the back of a hybrid.
“No,” he replied easily, tail swishing once behind him as a cats might have done. He had not failed to recognize that there was now an influx of the domesticated kind, and this irritated him. Cats in general were looked down upon by the de le Poer, though he could forgive these less savage creatures. Bobcats and lynxes, wildcats all of them, he sought to destroy. Not many prospered in this land. He had killed two after the slaughter of the ravens last season, and their pelts were kept for trade. “I would have called you if it was important,” the Aquila went on, shrugging one shoulder dismissively.
The blonde man left the tree, advancing to the water’s edge. His feet, cleansed by the snow and this damp, soggy earth, showed their true color (due to his excessive travel, they often were dulled by earth and dust) of copper-red, close but not as bold as the shades seen in various members of the clan. Lykoi blood seemed to favor such things; reds, expressively. The gold was from his father’s bloodline, and had not been recreated out of such a thing…except with Samael, who was a creature warped by hell and madness and the very real disease that had taken what was left of him.
“I spoke with Halo,” he went on, tone shifting slightly. It was perhaps more friendly now, less stern. He forced control over such a thing as he did his face, unwilling to break in front of these people. “Seems you two had a rough night of…training,” he grinned ferociously, this time forgoing any subtlety. As a man, he recognized the appeal of a body like that of his Triarii. Perhaps once he too might have found desire for her, but the moral code by which he lived and the truth of her nature had made the woman not an object of lust, but one of war. She was his reluctant commander; she was the master of this singular knight when there should have been three. Soon, the hybrid Aquila thought, soon enough. Max was likely to advance to the role of Hastati soon, and Symera’s training was progressing rapidly. He would not allow her to claim the rank until he himself had worked with her, for he was certain Halo had wrapped her claws around the girl. Eventually, he would break her hold; he would break her again if it came to such a thing.
Helotes felt uneasy under the gaze of the Aquila, and he wasn’t quite sure why. Something about the gaze felt judgmental, dangerous, like a mother glaring at a child who had just done wrong. Helotes ears remained flat against his head; had he done something wrong? Just a week or so ago Ezekiel had been proud of him, impressed with his skill, but now it was completely different. The thing that Helotes always strove to do was receive the Aquila’s favor, and he had been pushing himself to become a strong and faithful warrior to the clan. What possibly would Ezekiel be upset with him about? Had he annoyed Enkiel to the point that he went to the leader to complain? That didn’t seem like the jackal, and somehow Helotes thought that despite their opposite dispositions, Enkiel and him had some sort of camaraderie. What then?
Ezekiel shrugged off Helotes question and walked over closer to the pool and then spoke words that made Helotes’ balls shrink into his innards; he had spoken to Halo? Oh good god had she told the Aquila of all people of the night before? Why would she do such a thing? Or perhaps Ezekiel had caught her at a time when her wounds were apparent, and his scent still lingered on her skin. Oh he was in deep shit now.
Ezekiel then jokingly, but with venom, said that their training must have been rough for Helotes to sustain such wounds. The grin that bloomed on the Aquila’s face was not unlike one that might have graced Helotes features, and it was chilling to look at. He knew, then, that Helotes had been with Halo the night before, and he didn’t like it.
Helotes averted his eyes again, his mind racing to put words together coherently; why would Zeke be upset with him over sleeping with Halo? Was it because he feared that the hierarchy in the clan would break down if its members slept with each other? Did he think that it was deplorable for Helotes to sleep with a new mother? Or perhaps, and this thought constricted Helotes' throat, Ezekiel was the father of Halo’s pups, and had claimed her as his own! Oh good GOD!
Helotes looked back at Ezekiel then, his features those of complete apologetic submission, I’m sorry I didn’t know! Halo spoke nothing of your claim over her, and she had been so willing. Forgive me, I did not know! He felt ridiculous chastising himself in front of the man, but it had to be done. Helotes had slept with the leader’s female, the most dangerous mistake. Ezekiel had every right to kill him or banish him for this act.
Did I mention Ezekiel is a weirdo? Because he really is.
Word Count » 448
Of all the things he had expected, what launched forth as some sort of confession caught him off-guard. Ezekiel’s mouth dropped open, teeth bared in a startled sort of way that showed no aggression—his eyes widened fully, displaying the deep scars so well hid by his hair. They were jagged things, darkened from age, and hardly told the truth of the savage beating he had received. For several seconds the blonde man looked utterly taken by surprise.
And then he laughed.
It was a harsh, bellowing sound better suited for a raven then a coyote. He laughed cruelly, but it was not intentionally this way. His laughter had been the first part of him to slide into shadow, betraying that the golden boy he had once been was lost in a flurry of ebon wings and night-shadow beaks. The sound itself was one hewed from his throat, a peculiar cacophony of darkness that suggested despite his fair hair and smiling face he was a beast in truth. Ezekiel might have known this by his laughter alone; the cannibal ghost within him howled through his teeth and filled his belly with blood.
Finally, he rocked his weight back on his feet, toes digging into the soft earth. Madness gleamed in amber eyes, but it was so peculiar it might have merely been a trick of the light. Unlike so many of his family, Ezekiel did not consider himself mad. Had he ever killed without reason, or tortured, or raped? He followed the Word and he knew there was truth in His path. White whiskers curled up towards the reddish streak on his face, the second sign that he was Lykoi. Kaena’s eyes, Gabriel’s eyes, they blazed down at his cousin as if by thought alone he might set him aflame.
“Claim? Why would I want her? I’m surprised you walked away from her at all.” It was not an idle threat. Ezekiel could imagine, from the severity of the wounds, what “lovemaking” with his Triarii was like. “No, Helotes, you have no quarrel with me.”Zana, now, oh you have crossed her. He smiled thinly, ears fanning forward in a tall red crown. “I am disappointed that you are so weakened by women. That was my father’s downfall; it was the downfall of all men, of course. Did you know that, Helotes? A woman was what first led men to sin.” His eyes narrowed, testing. While Ezekiel hardly behaved or thought of himself as a womanizer, he saw those who chose to use their…fairer sex, these women, as snakes. Snakes were not things to pity or give quarter to; it was foolish to think something cold-blooded could love.
The look on Ezekiel’s face caused Helotes to freeze, as though he anticipated the Aquila’s features to slowly melt to viciousness now that Helotes had confirmed his being with Halo. But instead, the golden face twisted into a sinister grin and laughter bubbled and boiled out of Ezekiel like magma. The laughter was not hardy, but instead brittle and shrieking. Helotes ears lay even more flat then they had before, in an attempt to diminish the sound upon the ear drums. Then, when Ezekiel finally finished, he looked down upon Helotes in a way that was all too family to the dark Lykoi; madness.
It was not a true madness, where madness was a sickness of the brain, instead it was a self-created madness, a self-sustaining madness, one that the Aquila allowed himself to partake of, like a sweet poison. It was a dangerous thing, and Helotes had seen it many times in the eyes of his father, even in the eyes of Kaena when something sinister came her mind. In fact, he had also seen such a thing briefly in Halo, and even more rarely in Zana. But it was something that he himself did not possess, this madness that seemed to run in the Lykoi family, and he feared it.
Ezekiel’s words hit him as if the Aquila had spat upon him, asking him why he would possibly think that Ezekiel would claim her, why he would want her? It was not as the Aquila made it seem, that he respected his pelt too much to let her get her claws in it, no, what he really meant that Helotes was foolish for even trying with her. That may well be, but Helotes did not care, his conquest over her had been as complete as hers him.
Ezekiel then said that he had no quarrel with Helotes and the Hydra relaxed. Well that was fair then, but why did Ezekiel then hover so, why had he come here with no apparent mission? Then it became clear, upon Ezekiel’s next words. They were judging, mean-spirited, and haughty words coming from a man who obviously thought that he was morally superior to Helotes. The dusty Lykoi’s face was impassive, but had it been anyone other than Ezekiel he would have sneered; how idiotic for someone to believe that they were above someone morally, and Ezekiel most of all, the man who led a clan full of murderers, villains and traitors. For that is what they were, was it not? Though their intentions might be true at times, their methods were not deniable. But Helotes kept his mouth shut, and answered the Aquila coolly, It is true that diablos tricked the woman to lure the man to damnation, but the man had no less fault then she. And for her disobedience she was duly punished to suffer the pains of womanhood, of childbirth, and from such punishment she became strong. I do not pity the suffering of women, nor do I the suffering of men. And then quickly he crossed himself. Though he was not as devote as his mother, Helotes did have a spirituality that was very much rooted in what his mother had taught him.
Then, looking away, I respect what you are saying Ezekiel, for I believe you to be a good man. But if you are a believer as you imply you are, then you of all men should know better then to judge, lest ye be judged. It was a dangerous thing to say this, but it was the truth, and one that Ezekiel could not deny. Helotes just hoped that the madness he had seen there was not one that could take hold and cause the man to become violent.
lolol I forgot Helotes is religious. This thread is awesome.
Word Count » 500
It was obvious, to a stranger that shared his blood, what sort of beast lingered under the surface. Ezekiel was complicated. He had not been like this before, when he had run through the wilderness learning the names of all plants and how to shoot a bow to cut the wind. Once he had been a golden child, chosen by the sun and by godparents who had loved him, safe and free from pain and suffering. Had he not returned, he might have run off into a land and found a different man within himself. Yet he had, chasing his family, chasing the only woman who had ever been able to dig so deep into his back that the betrayal struck his heart.
A black pit had grown, years ago, when he had tried to be a man and not a boy. His ribs had been shattered, and with it, his mind. Oh what darkness he saw, in and out of the between of dreamless sleep and living hell. Pain was his life. He had suffered the way no boy should suffer and it had cost him. Twin scars burned on his face, darkened against the pale fur that even in winter blazed a burnished gold so light it was nearly white. Once more he faced a face of opposite cloak and color, and found him as a man might find himself in a broken mirror. Except this was no mirror; he was higher yet, holier, mightier. Who could say he was not, when his father had been God?
His morality was not one of a rational man. He feared ghosts and demons and saw traitors in every whisper. Ezekiel’s hands spoke of his hypocrisy alone; blood red and nicked and cut from who knew what. Inferni was no different than wolves. They all killed. They all sinned. Yet he smiled still and listened to the story he knew oh so well as if perhaps this was not the case, for Ezekiel too was a liar. This was his greatest gift of all and it had sunk deep into his bones and deeper still into the pit of a soul that yet lived in his belly.
A single ear flicked, displaying the dismissal of such pains. Helotes turned from him and for an instant a dark and terrible chasm ripped across his face, tearing it asunder in a terrible and silent snarl that too quickly slid into impassiveness and was missed. He smiled thinly even as his mind spun clockworks and his words slipped into a low, quiet rumble. “I only say what I see, my cousin. You are a warrior; I chose you to fight for me for this reason. I only fear that you may yet face temptation and be destroyed by it.” A golden lock of hair fell across his face, framing it and making him appear almost angelic…were it not for the fire that yet burned in his eyes.
Ezekiel’s face continued to elude a sinister nature in his seemingly innocent smile. It put Helotes on edge. Up until now he had had full confidence in his leader, but the Aquila’s actions in this situation had planted a seed of doubt. Helotes had done nothing wrong, nothing that would negatively impact Inferni, so why, again, had Ezekiel sought him out? Was it to chide him, to make it clear that he was the leader and that Helotes should watch himself? Helotes had never been under the impression that his personal life was under watch, unless it somehow affected the clan. But here he was, having Helotes recite Bible stories to him like he was a child. What truly was on Ezekiel’s mind?
He then spoke, reaffirming that Helotes was indeed a warrior of Inferni, and that the Aquila had chosen him for his prowess, but then he let on that Helotes’ sex life would somehow weaken him. Helotes barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes; the Aquila was surely coming off the fool right now. Instead, he turned to him with a serious expression, Ezekiel, I know you don’t know me well, but please, give me more credit than that. When I bed a woman, and whoever that woman may be, has absolutely no impact on my abilities as a warrior nor my loyalty to you. He chanced a glance into the Aquila’s burning eyes to make his point before averting his gaze once more.
Helotes could feel the golden man’s eyes burn into his neck like a hot iron, but he would not look back at him. As much as the man inside him wished to stand up for himself in this situation, he knew it would be folly. Helotes had no reason to get angry at Ezekiel for his beliefs, as foolish as they might be in Helotes’ mind. No, instead the dark Lykoi would have to work harder still, to prove to Ezekiel once and for all that he was a strong man, and that there was little to sway him from his oath to Inferni and its Aquila. Then, the silence was finally broken, and Ezekiel asked something that Helotes least expected.
Turning then, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, he was unsure of what to say at first. Then he just grinned and it turned to a laugh, Ah… well, I’m sure whatever assumptions you may have are confirmed by my backside. He said while reaching up to gingerly touch his shoulder again, But… I’ve had better. His grin turned dark then. He would never admit to Halo that this this was the truth, nor would he confirm it if she were confront him if it came to her in a rumor. But somehow Helotes doubted that Halo would care about such things, and he was sure she felt the same about him that he did of her. In fact, though their meeting had been a fiery one, Helotes had decided that he had much more enjoyed lying with Zana, because his heart beat for her, where for Halo it was empty.
He was quiet for a moment, the grin fading to a blank stare again as he thought of Zana. Though he had only been with her two nights ago, he already missed her. Quietly he then asked Ezekiel a question, Halo would not make a good mate, there is someone else I have in mind for that. What was he doing? Was he going to tell Ezekiel that he wanted Zana? How would the Aquila react to such a thing? Helotes was treading into deep water from which he may not return.
The next thread we have is going to be weiiiiiiird.
Word Count »
A simple shrug came from the dark-backed man, suggesting he was perhaps not as caring at the idea of a man could control himself. His own father had been flung into liaisons with wolves and dogs alike; what would happen the day Helotes found a wolf-woman he lusted after and she came with children? They would have to be cast aside; Helotes was too much wolf for such children to be welcomed here. It gave the darker man size and his unusual pelt color, but Ezekiel suspected that some of his foolishness would come from that blood. Gabriel was a prime example of such a thing.
He continued to smile in that peculiar way, somewhat pleased to know that whatever sort of wildcat his cousin was she did not match up to others. There was a dim and glowing resentment for Halo still within him, and he sought yet to eradicate whatever pipe-dream filled her head. The woman had no humility. It was due time she learn it.
The smile lessened, but only slightly so, at the mention of a mate. He flicked one ear dismissively at the comment about Halo, shifting his weight to a more comfortable position. “Oh?”
Helotes could not help but let forth a sigh. Why did things have to be so difficult? It was just terrible luck that he would fall for someone with such an obvious physical flaw as Zana, but he knew that the blood within her was strong, and that if she were to have pups by him they would be strong. But what if they were like her? Well, she had turned out fierce because of her size, turning what could have been a disability into an advantage; Helotes would raise such children to take after their mother.
Helotes glanced back at Ezekiel then, I have had my eye on Zana for some time. I believe she feels the same of me. But we have struggled with the challenges such a union might entail, and so have refrained from coupling… His voice faded, as well as his gaze from the Aquila, Still, after last night, I would have her as a mate, if she would have me. He wondered how Zeke would react to this.
Helotes knew he would have to mate-up eventually, he would not allow himself to go through his life without fathering pups. Having children was one of the greatest things a man could do, and he was already nearing middle age. Family was too important to forgo, and it was a desire that he harbored deep in his heart. So what if the female was small? If she could carry the children to term, then she was just as good as any other woman of any other size. Helotes hoped Ezekiel would not judge him harshly for his pick of the Infernian females.
Zana. Ezekiel’s face did not betray him, but he balked inwardly. Of all the people to consider for mates, it was Zana…and yet he had gone and run with Halo. A low and heavy fury began to boil in his belly, like hot iron. How dare he. How dare he claim to love a woman and sleep with her enemy? The undercurrents of Inferni were not so hidden to leave him ignorant of such things, especially when the two were hardly secretive about how they behaved around each other. The Aquila had not seen any outright aggression, but he knew it was brewing.
The golden man frowned severely as the Hydra turned his face, but forced the mask of indifference to return. He breathed out, tasting iron on his tongue, and shook his head lightly. “Helotes,” the Aquila’s voice dropped, dangerously low. “When I was a boy, I found Zana wandering our shore. She was running from the mother that burnt her tail; she knew nothing but her father’s name was Lykoi.” The fact of the matter was that he still had no idea who her father was—she looked so different from the others. “She was my ward then. I still consider her to be under my protection now.” He looked to the taller man sharply. “I suggest you make certain that you can control your…urges, before you ask her anything. She’s had to endure enough torture in her life.” The coyote rose, and walked behind the Hydra. His steps were heavy, digging into the soft earth. He wondered if it was the weight in his belly, then dismissed the thought. “See Enkiel about your wounds before they get infected.”
Red feet carried him away from the water, away from the warm air and the warrior within. The golden coyote did not look back and did not slow his pace; the slow burn in his stomach had begun to boil over onto his face, darkening it severely.
