The blood you bleed Is just the blood you owe

The moment was broken by her denial, and some of the heat died in his stomach. But a different hunger surfaced and he raised a paw to trace a claw down her too-thin cheek. He kept her locked in his den so often, was he feeding her enough? Like a flower you forgot to water, her body wilted. “You might have enjoyed it, if we'd pretended a little while longer” he said regretfully, as if this new course was inevitable, and entirely her fault.


He pushed her away from him then, giving her some distance. “Run, little flower. If I catch you, I'm plucking petals.” He left her to decide what that meant. She had thrown away the first game, but he rather thought he'd enjoy the second.