She wanted him. Needed him. Once again her brother had vanished, leaving her unsatisfied. Winter had brought snow and frigid temperatures. But it also brought a burning desire, an itch she needed scratched. She was in heat. It had been awhile since she had seen her shadow. Perhaps he was off finding information about his doomed bitch. She could practically taste the blood already. Crown would be tossed back, a call ripped from her throat. He needed to be here now. The temptress had no idea if the ebony male had ever fucked a woman, if not she would change that today.

Her massive form would pace back and forth, the steam of the pools blanketing her. The humidity was saturated with the sweet smell of her perfume, it clung to her pelt, rolled off her in waves. Plans rolled in her mind. First she needed to know what Bas had found out. He needed training. Training in battle and the art of torture. Nostrils quivered, testing the air. He was close. They would go hunting.

The thought had a cruel smile pulling at her lips. But first her needs needed to be met. She would steal the innocence the boy had. And then she would turn him into a killing machine. Wicked laughter bubbles in her throat. He was here. The wraith would turn, coral gaze falling on the large man, coral pools heating with deadly desire.

"Cat Talk" "Cena Talk"

Basilisk Saxe had grown somewhat distant as of late -- not in the physical sense, as he was almost always present, but in the mental sense of the term. While he often watched over and protected her children, he had not grown fond of them in the way he had anticipated he might. The empty void in his chest remained as vacant as ever, and there was little warmth evident in his violet stare as he watched them. As hard as he tried, he was incapable of loving them, but he had promised Cataleya he would help care for them, as she had cared for him.

It was no secret that his companion was in heat. And while he had reacted as most males would, his bodily response was subdued. It seemed he was aroused by things far more malevolent. By the sight of an innocent girl lost in the depths of a labyrinth; by the ferocity of a child who thought she was so powerful in comparison to himself.

And so he would withhold the subtle warmth that teased and taunted him, finding it easy enough to ignore. But even in the darkness, she found him. Her pungent scent filling the air. It was warm here, despite the snow that blanketed most of the earth -- a good retrieve during the colder nights, like this one. His eyes would fall upon her silently, his shoulder heaving as he stepped closer. What did she want front him, he wondered?

She had watched from the day her pups had been born how the brute had changed. How he had grown colder, restless. He was missing something. No more time would be wasted. She would give him exactly what he desired. She knew that it wasn't her. No, it was the golden Queen that had robbed his father of life. Lips would curl back into a wicked grin. Limbs would bring the woman closer, the gap vanishing between the two.

"Enough time has pasted. It is time for you to begin." Husky words would fall from her inky lips. Defenses would fall into the place easily. Had he been keeping up his end of the deal? Or had he failed? Smile would fade, but her lips remained curled back over fangs. Jaws unhinged, her body launching forward in a mock attack.

Had he gotten any better at fighting? It was time to find out. Blood would be drawn, she would taunt him endlessly, egging on his rage. Only then would the fun begin. She had ever intention of being fucked, and he would not be leaving until she was satisfied.

Blood would flow freely soon enough. The Queens throat would be ripped from her body. And it would all be done by Basilisk. She did not doubt that mans desire for her blood. But before she sent him out to battle, the woman needed to know he could follow through. Could he break the woman's soul? Could he torture the life from her pack and children? Could he break every bone in her body before watching her bleed to death? He didn't have a choice.

"Cat Talk" "Cena Talk"

Basilisk's soul had grown more tormented. More cold. When they had first met, the yearling had shown an irritated facade -- but slowly that irritation had grown into unadulterated rage. A fire that had been ignited deep within his chest. Occasionally it could be stifled, but never fully extinguished, but it would always return, burning strong and true. The fire was visible in his vibrant purple eyes, especially as he watched Cataleya. His face would twist into a sneer, a smirk toying with the corners of his lips.

The yearling watched as Cataleya's morphed into a snarl, mirroring his own.
"I will make my way to the battlefield tomorrow," he told her in husky tones, his eyes narrowing. "And I will fight." It was the best way to practice. He hoped she would agree.

He would creep forward, closer to her, watching with interest. Her scent was strong now, pungent and unavoidable, and he couldn't help the primal need that flowed through him, hot and powerful. Daringly he would surge closer, daring to let his jaws part, aiming to graze her chest with his fangs.

Tomorrow. It was all falling into place just as it should. And it had not gone unnoticed the change in the brute. He had become restless, his rage growing into something untamable. He had morphed into something dangerous since the day she had first met him. His eyes had grown harder, colder. His appetite for violence was never fully satisfied. It was all so wonderful.

Along with his rage, he had become bolder. Coral pools watched the bunching of his muscles as he propelled himself closer, jaws unhinging to graze her chest. A growl would vibrate in her chest, inky jaws parting to graze his ear. A fire had been ignited, and only he could put it out.

A foreign smell assaulted her nostrils. Someone had dared to intrude? Coral gems came to life, becoming pools of liquid fire. It took only moments for her to locate the ivory dame that was so innocently passing through. The poor girl was probably barely 2 years old. So fresh, so innocent. "Bring her here." Husky tones rolled off her tongue, meant only for Basilisk to hear.

"Cat Talk" "Cena Talk"

Despite his cold facade, the hateful exterior he so proudly displayed to the rest of the world, Basilisk craved companionship. Even the most vile creatures wanted someone to share in their misfortunes with, to share in their glory or pain -- even him. And yet his needs were only satiated by his sister, and for now, by Cataleya, who kept him grounded. Her strength and experience far surpassed his own, and he knew fighting was useless; and so he would remain with her for now, strangely content with the dynamic the two of them shared, content for now to be controlled by another while being given enough freedom to satiate his restless soul.

His flesh would crawl as she nipped at his ear, feeling a shiver crawl down his spine. As though his body craved her, aroused by the pungent odor she had begun to release. A soft growl would leave his throat, mirroring her own. Cataleya sure was a lot more fun when you did as she pleased; which was proving to be quite easy for Basilisk, the more time he spent with her.

His own body would shift, searching for the source of the sudden scent. A woman, unfamiliar to both of them. Another snarl would linger on his lips as his eyes found the girl. Older than himself, but still quite young. Cat would command him to bring her, and with ease he would rush forward. The girl would try to run, but he would not allow it -- sinking his fangs into the back of her neck, tugging roughly at her scruff as he dragged her back to where he had previously stood. A whimper would escape the girl's jaws, and he would only tug harder on the flesh that was trapped between his jaws.

Eyes never left the pale fae, even as Bas launched his attack, grabbing the woman hard by her scruff. She fought, her flawless pelt growing dirtier by the second. A malicious grin twisted dark lips as the woman fell at her feet, deadly jaws still clasped around her flesh. A disapproving sound would click her tongue, "You really shouldn't trespass on others homes." Gentle words hid evil intentions. The wide eyed doe fumbled over words that fell on deaf ears. The temptress gaze would lift, meeting the amethyst gaze of her companion.

"What do you think a fitting punishment would be?" Low laughter would rumble briefly in her throat. This woman was not about to escape with her life. It was quite the opposite. She was about to wish she was dead. Salmon colored tongue would swipe hungrily across jaws, coral gems falling back tot he helpless woman. She would not participate today. The woman was interested to see just how far Basilisk would go, how miserable would he make her life.

Would he snap her bones? Rip away her flesh? Take the last drop of innocent from her? A growl of pleasure vibrated her bodice. Toes flexed against the frozen ground. Snow began to fall, blanketing the already hidden ground. Soon the ground would be stained with blood. Her blood. That ivory pelt would be forever stained.

"Cat Talk" "Cena Talk"