Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering

Setekh's molten gaze fixated on her, observing the turmoil of emotions swirling within her, a tempest of volatile feelings unleashed upon him. He craved more, an insatiable hunger burning within him until his very flesh seared off his bones. Her rage, a blaze of blue, the most potent kind, both intrigued and called to him. He savored the challenge she presented, the raw power of her vengeful spirit pulsating between them. Delicious. Sweet vulnerability.

As she spat venomous words tinted with bitterness, Setekh remained unruffled, his smirk unwavering. "You speak the truth, my dear. We wolves are indeed a selfish breed," The Ivory Prince conceded, his voice a deep melodic rumble. He watched her, his gaze steady, as she bristled with defiance, her snarl igniting something within him. Yet, caution whispered in his mind. Beckoning, beckoning him! Begging for a reckoning! A reckoning!

"I extend my aid not from pity, but from mutual gain," Setekh explained, his words deliberate and measured. "Trust is not a prerequisite for utilizing someone, is it?" He added, his voice smooth as velvet, eyes gleaming with certainty. Her pride, hungry for validation, danced in her gaze — something he meant to take explicit advantage of. Use. Use. Only to abuse? What a ruse!

As she wavered, torn between distrust and the lingering memory of her pursuers, Setekh reached out his paw, a gesture of solidarity. With a flicker of hesitation, her paw met his own, a reluctant connection that sparked excitement within him that crawled up his spine with a shiver of satisfaction. In her touch, Setekh felt his mind whirl, a binding thread woven into his beautiful psyche as he stared into her gem-like eyes, unblinking.

"Then I shall take you away like you so desire," Setekh murmured, his voice laced with quiet, obsessive fascination. "Until the day you decide to cast me aside like another useless burr, hmm? Does that prospect entice you, Princess Kyanite? Though I cannot guarantee that day will ever come." With ease, the Ivory God lifted her to her feet, offering his shoulder for support. But what will come? What will become of this darling crumb?