MALIKYE demon - iromar - imprint - mate

It is within the darkness of the caves that the vampire lingers. Word had spread to him of the creatures that lurk here, of the meals that can be presented. The Grotto, they had told the wraith, was a place where the unwanted dwell and the lonely come to die. So he would follow, for he is the king of death and the seeker of the lonely. Perhaps it is to put them out of their misery, which he would allow if they spoke such a request. For those who fought him, for those who attempted to save themselves and become freed from the murderer’s clutches, they would suffer a slow, painful death at his hands. It is has been a while since he has fed, so long since he has been granted the wonderful taste of his own brethren.

The beast was hungry.

The casual drip drip of the cave’s liquids fall onto a rather clean charcoal streaked pelt. To his distaste, he has yet to stain his pelt with the most beautiful of ways and for that very reason, he has cause to be slightly grumpy. The dark envelopes him, encasing him in their delicious black tendrils and caressing his features. Crystalline shards stare out of the cave and like a spider in its perfectly made web, he waits. His muscles tense and relax as time passes, rippling under his pelt. Saliva pools within his slightly parted jaws, falling to the cold stone like a poison. His stomach growls, and his own chest vibrates the low sound. His own growl one of impatience. Time was not on his side for if Andras knows Malikye is away from the borders instead of protecting his pretty little jewel, he may gain trouble.

He needs to satiate his hunger.

He blinks and flash of color just barely catches his gaze. Ears flatten upon his massive skull as he moves forward with unbelievable stealth for a male of his bulk and size. He lowers himself slightly, creeping towards the cave mouth as his muscles ripple under his thick pelt with each calculated step. He pauses at the hole, allowing his pupils to take those mere seconds to adjust to the bright sunlight before his gaze lands upon a damsel stretched on a log above him. How the hell she had managed to get up there in such a short time, he did not know. He snarls silently, cursing the air and narrowing his practically white eyes at her in irritation. She is facing the forest, away from him so he can stare as he pleases.

The beast growls.

A breeze has shifted and it carries the smell of rain,
and the murk of Iromar…

He snarls, stained teeth flashing as lip curls back menacingly. There was no need to keep quiet any longer; his hunt was now over. The girl was of iromar. The girl was one of the ‘untouchables’

Ooc: oh geez, this sucks, I am sorry!!