truth is beautiful without doubt; but so are lies (ralph waldo emerson)
There is something to be said about letting oneself - especially one quite as addicted to himself as Enderly - fall for another. Letting go of that fiendish side of himself that he clings to in selfishness in hopes that another might find him worthy. He had done much for Naamah. He had debased himself for her, bringing prizes to her paws like some mighty war hero for his Queen, and she had been a temptress. She had let him taste the sweet nectar of her body in a time of passion all the while tasting passion elsewhere. There is nothing as bad as having tasted something you desired above all else and then having it ripped savagely from you. He had lost her into the clutches of Samil and in the process a piece of him had been lost as well. Now darkness swirled in the depths of his body; when he was alone and when Sanguine wandered too far away, he felt the familiar itch of insanity climb up him. The need to watch things burn. But she kept most of it at bay.
He wonders, as he stands near Eris, if she smells the scent of Sanguine mixed with his silky fur. Does she wonder or does she think it is merely the dabbles of his trade, as she has mentioned before? His silver eyes assess her in both an inquisitive manner as well as predatory. He would like nothing more than to snatch her up, for them to struggle always with their clever words and games, and to seduce her into his clutches. Yet how would she react when she found he had taken in his daughter, a byproduct of the relationship he had just mentioned? Because Enderly, he loved Sanguine; she had wormed her way beneath his skin and he adored her as he had never adored Naamah, so much more.
His ears fall back slightly as he offers her a debonair smile in response to her sharp attitude. His words had been truthful as much as a test to her limits and he had found a button. Eris was as much in love with herself as Enderly was himself and in a way, they fit.
"I see," he answers her in a doubtful tone. Inwardly he is pleased and he pushes her with such underhanded taunts to see how she would react. Maybe she would come to him, press her lovely body against his, and tempt him to take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Enderly might not be able to refrain from such temptation - and oh how he loves temptation.
Strangely he finds a bolt of pleasure at her suddenly direct words. My demon, she called him, even though he had alluded to that before. Which meant that she was as infatuated with him as he was with her and he steps closer now, ears pricked and staring down at her.
"Only if my goddess has objections to my company and that of my daughters?" Now he was revealing how he cared for Sanguine; wherever she was, she was growing and wandering off, but she would always come back to him. And could Eris, a creature who seemed as possessive as he was, manage to deal with such?