Her words were harsh to others, Chael supposed, but he made no effort to defend himself. She was right, after all, who indeed would lay with the lowest ranking member of Iromar? He was not at all the picture of attractive masculine behavior. While his looks granted him some glances, for he was a well formed male, he had yet to meet a female who felt sexually attracted to his submissive nature and passive personality. On the other paw, he’d been raised by the wolves that dominance was highly important to, and thus had no true hope within himself of find a mate. So, her words were simply correct, and he would not refute brutal honesty dripping from the lips of his ebony wonder, even if she applied it incorrectly to the male standing next to them.
He was content sitting here, but then his nerves broke through as he caught the scents of Zaqar and Gaara. He immediately went rigid and he turned his blue eyes away from his imprint, to cast quick, cautious eyes towards his pack-mates. With the initial moment of the imprinting passed, he struggled in limbo between the Chael-that-had-been and the Chael-that-had-imprinted. The loyalty to his pack mates returned, and the instinct to find a mate in the months of autumn weaved themselves back through his mind. Chael’s head lowered from its height, from the proud moment of when he had felt free of submission to those around him, and he realized the large gathering of wolves around them.
His gaze didn’t stay long distracted though and he turned his attention fully to the battle scarred female once more when she responded to him in his native language. Part of him was surprised but somehow he had expected her to answer with the fluidity of a Demon native the homeland, Hell. His eye’s glinted in horror at being thought of as an Angel, though not because he despised the family. Rather, it was because of his pack-mates who were surely listening. He hadn't expected the Demons to be so… interested in the free lands, and now he was sure he would be chewed apart when he returned home.
He shook his head and he allowed his eyes to settle on her once more. He… he desired closeness with her, but she wanted him to be far away. It was a strange sensation, and ultimately, Chael had to obey her will. He stepped down from the rocks and said in the common language, “I am neither an Angel nor even a proper Demon.” Chael casted his look around, and was thankful to see the eyes turning away from him. His breath relaxed. He wasn’t made to be the center of attention, and in all honesty, the fact that he had been for a few moments terrified him.
Chael stood before her cautiously, but made it clear he had no intention of trying anything funny. He continued, “I was not gawking at your scarred bodice, but admiring your amethyst eyes that gleam with sapphires. They are the doors to your soul, of which I have found… holds me here. It is the magic this land, Moladion, casts on us males. This magic has been named imprinting; it is the attachment of souls.” He met her gaze then, wondering if she could feel his soul? Could she sense the absence of hate, the love for his pack, or the affection for puppies in his heart? He had heard imprinting only worked in one direction, and it was male to female, but his heart was hers to explore if it was possible. Not because he loved her, because she did not need him to love her, but because she had the right to it. She had his very being wrapped around her claws.
“I promise, I am not an Angel here to plague you. I serve the Demons of Iromar, but am not properly of their family either. I am only Chael the servitor and now, I am also yours,” He said quietly. He could feel something within her. It was a longing of sorts, but not for a mate or brother or a slave. However, Chael had never had the experience of true friendship before. He wasn’t entirely certain consciously how to take on the roll his entire being seemed to know she needed. It would take time for him adjust, but strangely, he knew that she would be more content with that. She needed the slower transition just as much as he did, though he found his returning instincts made his mind wander to the needs of his original reason for leaving Iromar for a brief while. His imprint was the most attractive choice, the only choice, to be close to this winter.
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