Sweet punishment
02-18-2014, 03:50 PM
He truly belived Deteste was leaning toward training him for leadership. He saw the fire in Basilisk's soul and knew it would never be extinguished. It could only grow, but in which direction? The possibilities were endless. Cataleya knew that, and so did Deteste, but he was beginning to learn that it was he -- and he alone -- that would choose the direction of his fate. Her anger was unsurprising, and while he would not withdraw entirely from it, he had changed significantly since their first meeting. He would take her anger, and her wrath, and whatever punishment she might see fit. He was no longer a boy, but a man, and how strong he was growing to be. "Would I lie to you?" he retorted, bristling in irritation, and yet his stance betrayed his continued loyalty to her. Somehow, she had grounded him, had made him so much stronger through her dominance. She continued to snarl, moving to snap at his face. He did not move, but instead felt the stinging of fangs against his throat. Painful, no doubt, but no deadly. Basilisk would remain calm, though bile threatened to rise in his throat as adrenaline began to trickle through his veins. He would stand strong, unwilling to struggle. He was loyal to her, as he had been since the day he had been claimed, and was not yet ready to fight for his freedom. He wondered silently if he might ever be ready. He remained standing through it all. She would not knock him down, but neither would he try to break free from her grasp. "We can have power here," he offered through gritted fangs. "We will prosper." Only as a child had he known a true home. |
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