WC: 567
The black tail waved from side to side, and yet it was not in an amicable fashion. There was something dangerous in that movement. It was as if she were ready to attack her fellow slave. And indeed, the scent of terror was thick about the male slave. She breathed it in deeply like a drug. Her dark heart beat faster, excited by it all. Muscles twitched in anticipation, itching for action. The dark maw twitched, her jaws craving the sanguine life beneath his flesh. And yet the Jindo-wolf was still. She was unpredictable. Not quite stable since the shattering of her mind, and yet stable enough to survive in this new life as ‘slave.’ The primal instincts of the wolf were more prominent than the primal instincts of others. The tenebrous fae saw weakness within the male—he displayed it openly—and her instincts urged her to dominate him, to attack him, to kill him. But she did not. Her had not completely regressed; she was not completely a mindless beast, but perhaps resembled the wolves without the luperci virus more accurately—the wolves of old. The Korean’s narrow eyes glinted in the dark.
“Master?” The alto voice repeated the word. The black wolf moved closer, her steps light and fluid—eerily unworldly—despite their violent insinuation. The black nose nearly touched the other’s maw, their septum piercings nearly grazing each other. The Fighter breathed in his scent, sifting through the many smells that created it. The ocean’s spray was strong. “Who is your master?” Did this slave belong to one wolf, as she did? If so, did he belong to a wolf ranked higher than Salvia. Unless the submissive one belonged to the Boss or the Auxiliary, however, the Korean would consider him beneath her. Then she could relieve the tension within her muscles from the lack of fighting, using the male as the victim of her whims. But the white-eyed slave had come to understand that slaves were properties of the ranked wolves, and the ranked wolves did not appreciate broken property. Indeed, while Salvia made it clear that the Jindo-wolf was beneath her and was the subject of her orders, Salvia also made sure that her slave was in a condition to work. That subjected the enslaved female to enough food and the privilege of practicing. And for that, the black wolf was compliant.
He mentioned that he had an assignment: the building of a fish trap. How long could she keep the male for her own amusement? Might she cause punishment for him? The latter did not immediately concern her as much, and she thought little of the punishment that might befall the male because of her. He may receive a small punishment for crossing paths with the hunting female. “I am hunt, for Master Salvia,” came the alto voice, her reply given in unreadable tones. Her broken English and Korean accent may have been interesting, even intriguing, if not for the threat that emanated from her being. The belligerent female moved slowly about the male as he sat back, circling him, assessing him. The lunar orbs watched him. As she came around his other side, a name—and a yawn—escaped his maw. She snarled and gave a warning snap near his ear. “TaeKyung,” she introduced. Then, “TaeKyung is boring?” She could make things more exciting. She would prefer it.
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