Blood of the Ancients

Nero made no effort to try to hide the way his eyes rested on Scylla's body as she went through a few languid stretches, caring little if the petite fae saw the way he was looking at her. He was a red-blooded brute, a creature of primitive design and primal coding. His favorite activities were base and bloody and carnal. Even in his injured state, there was no helping the genetic wiring that appreciated the svelte form of the sultry slate fae. Hell, maybe he was even attracted to the confident and dangerous aspect of her. Nero's tastes did run wild and his kinks savage. Scylla made a comment about him being alive and responding to thanks he hadn't given. The massive dire gave a grunt and studied the small wolf before him with guarded golden eyes. Yes, she had saved his life, but she had also stripped him of his freedom in turn. Was that worthy of gratitude?

"I am. Your work spared me from death." A pause before Nero added a reluctant, "...Thank you." He was a primitive savage, but he was not incapable of feeling and expressing appreciation. It would remain to be seen how thankful he truly was for this indentured servitude he found himself in. The way she smiled at him when he asked what she planned for him sent a little chill rippling down Nero's back, though his expression remained carefully measured. The way she looked at him was reminiscent of a predator eyeing up her prey. Whatever she had in mind, it had her grinning like a feral beast. Nero was intrigued and enticed. She wanted his strength and his skills. He assumed she meant his talents for doling out death, given that was all she knew he was good at so far. So he was to be an executioner for her? A set of teeth and claws to call down on her foes at her behest? Not a bad deal all things considered... Finding creative ways to snuff out life was one of Nero's guilty pleasures, after all.

But then Scylla mentioned his genes if he was a good boy and Nero raised a brow curiously at her. Golden eyes that had been locked on hers strayed downward, roving over the smooth planes of taut, sleek muscles and feminine curves. Would he even be able to fit inside her without splitting her in two? Well, if that was how Scylla wished to meet her end one day, far be it from him to deny her desires. Still, the prospect of Scylla desiring him to breed her was an arousing thought. Perhaps he could be a good boy for her in that was the carrot at the end of her stick. The Sovereign asked if he could hold to his word, questioning his trustworthiness boldly. The giant arctic brute had to admire her pragmatism; he had been considering all the ways he could kill her, after all. But now... he was beginning to grow curious about those benefits she promised him in Obscura.

With a lift of the corner of his lips in a cocky grin, Nero gestured with a wave of his paw over Scylla's still intact body. "You're still alive, aren't you? If I was going to kill you, I wouldn't have waited." The Paleolithic dire wolf was a baser creature—a lesser ancestor as many evolved wolves considered him. He considered himself their wild and more powerful first draft. "One's word is all they have to show their worth. I don't give it out, ever. Except now." He had given his word to Scylla in exchange for his life. Dipping his head to the Sovereign in a show of fealty and also to bring himself down to eye level with her, golden eyes locked once more with mismatched sapphire and obsidian. "This Ancient Blood belongs to you, Sovereign Scylla. Your 'benefits' are highly tempting." A flash of sharp teeth in a wily grin, eyes showing the flame of life revitalized within them.