He did not know her heritage or what she was taught of love and mates. He believed in strength and in that, he believed himself te strongest for her. They would make beautiful babies, in his opinion. They would be strong and intelligent. He didn't care that she liked to stare too much at the stars sometimes. He could overlook it because she was beautiful and smart and witty and charming and she got under his skin like no one else ever could. His parents weren't the best models for love and companionship. They believed in possession and violence to show their passion. They bit each other and drew blood just to taste it because they felt it was what they deserved of the other. It was always a matter of claiming the other as their own and no one else's, of not letting anyone else touch them in that way. Eric used to hate it when Seline would come home reeking of someone else. She liked to lure her prey in, sometimes by seducing them. That drove Eric crazy. Cuirass knew he would never allow that with Belhara but he would never have to worry about it because she ate only prey. She didn't hunt wolves as his parents did. She would only have to come to him when it came to that.

He knew he had chosen his words well and while he did flare toward the dramatic, he knew that he felt every word inside. It should help butter her up some for the question he would be asking by the end of the night. He didn't expect an answer from her right away. She was too challening and independent for that. It would surprise him if she did. But he had the storm on his side since he remembered that she loves storms. He could smell her but he had yet to see her. It was driving him crazy to know that she was so close and yet unreachable. He knew she must be in there pacing, seeing just how far she could push him before he broke. She must love the drama he was creating for her, wooing her like some romeo and juliet crap. She was probably eating it up but he knew better. He knew she felt the same. He could see it in her eyes when she looked at him sometimes. He could feel it in her teeth when she bit at him. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

Finally she came into view and it wasn't one minute too soon. His breath caught in his throat as she stepped into the light as antoehr strand pierced the sky overhead and the thunder continued to roar. her figure was perfect as always and he licked his lips as she got closer, fighting the urge to move into her space as he usually did. Instead he let her come to him this time. He had to at least make her feel like she had a choice. He wouldn't give up. He knew that without a doubt. He would keep pestering her till she gave in. She was meant to be his. He just knew it. She stopped before him and was silent and that in itself was making his skin tingle with anticipation. His throat felt dry and parched. His eyes darted across her face, trying to memorize it and read it all in one. She was such a mystery and he loved it. He couldn't get enough. Then she looked past him and seemed to see the prey he had laid out for her. He smirked, knowing it would get her attention.

When she leaned down, he didn't understand at first, his brows furrowing, and he gasped in surprise when she bit her own leg and he could smell the fresh blood on her fur. He wanted to ask why she would do such a thing. No one should be allowed to mar her perfect flesh but himself. But then she told him that it was Demon tradition and he felt his lips slowly tugging into a smirk. His eyes lit up like Christmas. It was meant to be. It had to be for what could be more perfect than him getting to drink her blood as part of them becoming mates? It was destiny. He felt it in his bones. He looked into her eyes for a moment, wanting to make sure this was what she wanted. But it had to be if she was so sure about biting her own flesh. The blood was running down her leg, mixing in with the rain and mud and it was going to waste. His nose crinkled at the thought.

Not on his watch. He immediately drew his own mouth down to his leg, biting deep without so much as a flinch. He tasted the blood but held back his fervor because it was his own and he knew hers would taste so much sweeter. Drawing back, he licked his lips and looked at her with a grin. "Nothing would make me happier, my siren." His eyes twinkled as he stepped toward her, ready to taste her just as he'd always imagined he would. He offered his own leg in turn, his heart already racing in his chest with anticipation of what was to come.