Gale
this is going to break me clean in two --
this is going to bring me close to you
The rage does not leave her eyes, but he watches as something else joins it. It is not the submission he’d hoped her, not the brimming of tears in her eye, or desperate pleading.
He does like the pleading, but instead she refuses him a third time.
Perhaps Sickle had inherited her stupidity from her mother, Gale thinks, rising from his crouch as she whispers No a second time.
Before he can move closer, she heads toward where Sickle lies, and Gale replaces the one raised paw on the ground to observe. Mazikeen is quick and efficient, and the blood sprays for only a few heartbeats.
Long enough for him to close the distance between them, long enough for him to shove her to ground with sheathed claws and pin her to the earth with the weight of his body.
He’s forgotten about the empathy he’d been using a moment before, and the conduits of magic remain open, sharing with her the immense pleasure of her obedience, the heady joy of taking a life.
“Good girl,” he croons, sharing with her the burning lust that makes the ache in his chest disappear, kissing her with lips that do not always protect from the sharp teeth behind him. He praises her with rough caresses, and will find equal pleasure in being shoved away or drawn in, even if he knows better than to expect the latter from a grieving mother.
He remains hopeful - perhaps she will be in a hurry to make a replacement.
@Mazikeen
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Gale
