damaged goods

Basilisk was a broken man. He'd been fatherless for as long as he could remember, and hardly any of his family had cared enough to find him and to figure out if he was even alive. He was only alive because of Cataleya -- and once again, he saw that she was loyal to him, even if she would never love him. He would never love her, though he was committed to her in a way few others would understand.

She did not move to strike him, though her words were as vicious as any attack. His purple gaze was fixated on her, watching the anger ebb and flow like the tides of the ocean, washing over her and carving her face into a mask of fury. But it seemed to dissipate slowly as she heard his words, and he would simply nod to her.

"It will not happen," he retorted sharply, a bit of his own annoyance slipping from his lips. His presence had not been entirely absent from the pack, but it had not been strong enough. "I will always be there." He had to pull himself out of the rut he had fallen into. Nobody would feel sorry for him -- and what an opportunity he had to succeed here.


'Pull yourself together, you look like shit.' A snort fell from his lips as he looked her over, slipping back into his normal self around her, though the pain still ebbed in his leg. The flesh would heal over there, but it would never quite be the same. A slight chuckle fell from his lips. "Well, you look fat," he commented idly. It was no so strange that she had put on some weight -- as a Queen, she would not easily go hungry now -- but something was a bit off about it. His nose wrinkled as he eyed her. Her scent had changed significantly, now that he tasted it once again, and he leaned a bit closer to her. "You're pregnant." He'd experienced a pregnant Cat before, and it had not been much fun -- who had she fucked this time, he wondered?