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The woman was smiling at him. The three and a half year old male could not help but somewhat adore her ability to feel positive feelings around this horrible situation they had fallen into. His sky blue gaze fell to the swollen belly, and her words confirmed that the poison would be allowed to pulse and grow. As the white hands grabbed the cream ones, he made an effort in suppressing a reflex like need to step away from her. There was a small break, and he wondered if he was supposed to say something, anything. There were no words he could give her, so she went straight to her point, her reason for visiting him here today, besides showing him that his life would change.
Her words were so gentle, but he knew not what to do with them. She was offering him a way out. If he did not wish to acknowledge that the litter was rightfully his, then she would walk away and raise her child alone. Blue eyes twitched slightly as they kept staring at the same spot, where one or more living creatures hid under their mother’s womb. The Lilium wished the demon’s grasp was still as strong as it had been when he first had arrived. He had slain mothers and children without a worry in the world. He had even found a disturbed sort of pleasure in his doings. Where was the voice that was going to set things right? Another question directed to himself, why did he even care? This should not get to him, yet it did.
He had always possessed a puppy like curiosity to certain things. He also realized that he actually cared about this, because of his reaction. Excitement would have been Deuce’s preferred reaction; he realized that, but the fact that he did not manage to stay indifferent of something that could easily be made to be her problem alone. No, he actually did care. How odd. His hand released itself from her grasp gently, and he licked his lips nervously as his hand moved towards and placed itself on the swollen belly against his will. What the fuck had he done?
A short flashback brought the male back to Milla, the wolfess that had died giving birth to his firstborn daughter, named after his mother and himself. She had given her life for him and for what she had believed was the result of their love. The woman had been young and foolish, and he had been in the need of entertainment. Yet, he had taken care of his daughter. Once he had sent her away, making sure she ended up in Clouded Tears before he turned away. She had come back and brought Cercelee with her. He had raised them together, though no one would ever know of it. Cercelee did not speak of it; he did not speak of it.
To think that it had happened again. Perhaps this was a new chance? Hey, little puppies, this is your rapist killer dad.. The choice was his. You know what I am capable of, Deuce. Would you really trust me as a father of something so innocent and pure? He believed he had already hit his decision, but it did not make him happy. He would have preferred a stillborn litter or nothing at all. He could always hope.