He drops Raeg’n with an unceremonious plop back into the snow, and turns to Kilter. “Go to Pangea and meet us there. Should you come across any others, deal with them as you feel the need. The Angel and I need to have a talk. She will not be far behind you.” He stares on, agitated from having fallen into a miniature family unit—when all he wanted to do was take the boy’s body and use it against his father. Now, he was stuck playing house to a boy who was merely a marionette, and a fanatical bible-thumping wife.
Fucking great.
He waits for the boy to retreat obediently—for what else can he do?—and Deimos moves in to make contact with Raeg’n. His red eyes level her, and he finds that for the first time, he is direct. No games, no smoke. No billowing, no gravelly voice. His wings go silent, and obedient—and he is, for the moment, a man.
A very angry man.
“What the fuck is your problem? Do you even know my name?” He takes a breath, and comes in closer, warping his wings around her, examining the bite, breathing his hot exhale over her body, the talons of his fingers tenderly pulling her mane apart to examine his handiwork. “It will heal.”
His voice has turned to honey—warm and sticky sweet. It was a ruse. Surely she would know that. But he knows what she craves. And in the cradle of his embrace, he spins his web, drawing his little angel in. His wings; they play with her hair as he breathes over her body, watching the wounds he has inflicted close up and heal of their own volition.
A gentle touch—a lover’s caress.
His voice vibrates into her ears, warm and inviting, as he pulls her into himself, letting her feel the strength of him. Hard, fast, and powerful. He knows she is blushing. He does not care. “I know you want me,” he whispers to her, wrapping her in blue velvet, drawing his talons over her once more, turning her blue hide into silky satin, her mane and tail into pure gold. Decadent. Luxurious. “I have more power than you can imagine. And I know your every thought. So do not ever try to hide from me. I will find you, Kitten.” He purrs to her, enticing her evil side—knowing with security that she has one.
“If you are going to call me a Corrupter, you might let me start with you…where you want it most. And you can start with my name. ” That dark smile plasters his features once more.
"Deimos."
And with that he withdraws. His breath sliding over her one last time, letting her simmer in her own body. That heat she would learn to melt to--to quiver to.
"Go catch up to the boy. I will see you both soon. Pangea. Do not get lost. I will find you if you lose the path."
Wings open, and he catches the wind, pumping himself upwards, he takes to the sky, heading for the conifer forests. Business would take him from her... but he doubted he would be far from her thoughts.
Check.
DEIMOS
cry ‘havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war…
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