:::not here for my confessionals:::
Despite the sins he had committed in the past, and the ones he planned to commit in the not-too-distant future, Malignus was relaxed. He was alone with a naïve and beautiful young woman and all around them the landscape was desolate. Even if she were to call for help, it was clear to him that help would be long in coming, if it bothered to come at all. This fact put him at ease, and so he waited with all the patience of a poisonous snake, having bitten his prey and needing only to linger for its untimely demise.
And what lovely prey it was.
Aldonza, the little dancer, had a face touched by angelic hands. She was perfect, poetry in motion, slim body offset by muscles that slid beneath her fine, silky pelt with the fluidity of water. He did not bother to hide his admiration any longer, for he knew it would only feed the girl's vanity, and so he let his pale eyes linger on her sultry curves with avid attention while he flattered her. When Malignus spoke of angels, the female blinked confusedly, and he was both surprised and taken aback by her statement, although he didn't let the emotions show on his face, nor still his tongue for long, “The angels I speak of don't live among wolves. They aren't falsely glorified like those pompous creatures living in the desert that call themselves by such a name. No, these are beings made of light, pure and beautiful and residing in the heavens. Just as you, my dear Aldonza, should be doing. You are far too lovely to be living here on earth amongst mere mortals!”
His voice took on an affronted tone, as if he were pained by the notion that any being of earth were allowed to look upon such a magnificent face. What a fine job he was doing! What wonderful words could pour from his lips when he wanted them too. Perhaps, had he been sincere, his gentlemanly nature would have been sought after by every lady in Moladion. However, as he was, Malignus was the furthest thing from a gentleman.
When the girl spoke again, he smiled lightly, unworried, seeking to put her again at ease, “Do not worry about such a trivial thing, pretty butterfly. Together, we could conjure up stories that would make every other wolf jealous, that would cause every male to seek you out if only to catch a glimpse of your wonderful face. If you would like that, there is but one thing I need you to do for me. Turn around, so that I can see you from the back, set against the Northern sky. That way, your image will be firmly set in my mind, and will inspire me for days to come. You see, I will need to commit every inch of you to memory.”
The plot thickened, and yet the male remained cool and calm. His tail continued to wag, and he kept a charmed grin firmly plastered to his lips, lest the other grow suspicious. He was so close now to tasting that forbidden honey, so close.
Aldonza had only to turn around.
male/no mate/no pack/imprintless/four years/father of none