Kylar would move to greet her, his nose pressing to her cheek. A ghost of a smile would lift the corners of her lips for a fraction of a second before disappearing. Her pack did not need to know she was capable of happiness. They needed to continue to fear her. But perhaps this would be a lesson to them. No one was safe from her. Not even a queen. And this sad excuse for a queen was now her toy. A sneer would curl her dark lips. Her crown to lower, tipping towards Kylar, her tongue rasping against the bleeding wound on his chest. The sweet tang of his blood was a tease, another reminder that they were not entirely alone. A voice would breach her ears. Aislinn. Kylar had recently promoted her to a warrior. "You may do as you please with her. Just keep her alive, her beloved will come looking for her soon enough." She would coo, her coral gaze resting on the unconscious woman. Her tail flicked back and forth with anticipation. She would await his call. And only then would she have her fun with the woman. "Don't hurt her pretty little face anymore, I don't want my toys ugly." She would muse, her words thoughtful. "Feed her only enough to survive. I don't want her strong enough to run away just yet." Her gaze didn't leave the russet woman as she idly gave orders.
