The first thing he saw was her feet tucked up beneath her plump, round backside to cover it, with her heels against the base of her tail.Cute,he thought with mild humour, especially when he noticed her light-grey toe beans.
He didn’t often see the bottoms of her feet. Despite them appearing somewhat humanoid, her toes were curled like paws, and the pad of her foot looked like a bunny’s.
As he regarded them tucked beneath her rump, her tail caught his attention once more, and he found his cheeks heating. Especially when his groin tingled for reasons unknown.
He’d been trying to ignore it for the better part of the month, but it was growing increasingly harder to deny her sensuality.
Her body was remarkably curvaceous. Her waist tucked in, accentuating wide hips. Her physique was lithe, but filled out more each time she ate, making her look softer, more lush, and morefeminine. Even her black fur had a pretty shine to it.
The dress he’d made for her barely contained her perky breasts constantly pressing against the low neckline, nor did it hide her rather kneadable-looking backside and thick thighs. Her tail constantly drew his eye, and he didn’t particularly like the way his dick jerked again when he stared at it.
Thankfully, it was only her tail that gave him that reaction.I think...Or was he ignoring it because that made it easier for him?Wait... why am I thinking about this right now?
Worried that his gaze had more of an appreciative leer to it than he truly wanted, his ears were hot when he forced his eyes away from that fluffy appendage. Although he could just see herfully from behind, his gaze drifted up her blanket-covered back and to the way her arms were crossed with her hands cupped at her throat. Curled into a ball, she looked small and delicate, soft and fluffy. She looked at peace.
Peace that he’d been the one to steal from her through his own past deeds.
She isn’t an innocent bystander in all this, though.All of her kind were part of this war, whether they wanted to be or not, whether they knew they were or not. Their heritage to Weldir, their purpose of bringing him souls, meant they had always been opposing Jabez.
They only had their parents, or grandparents in Zylah’s case, to blame.
But that creed has now likely been abolished.
With Jabez, the great king of Demons, now presumed dead, his army had no head. Like a beehive without a queen, they had no task, no organisation. They would once more fall into being uncontrolled beasts plaguing the world with their fangs and claws without rhyme or reason.
Unless they governed themselves.Perhaps the more advanced Demons will find their own leaders.Some kind of government to enact rules and order – which, behind the scenes, had fallen completely upon Jabez’s shoulders.
For now, that was no longer his responsibility, and he found it rather freeing.I’m tired. I’m too old for this shit now.Although he still considered himself in his prime, despite being thirty-seven.
I just want this to be over.He was tired of it all, of fighting for a better life, of the violence and bloodshed. Just tired.
Zylah wasn’t his last chance, but she sure as shit was a good one.However, she would have to know of the truth.Not just a little bit of it, but every piece of it. Every deed he’d done, whether it be cruel, selfish, or even good, he would need to reveal to her.His companion in this war needed to be someone he could not only bare his sins to, but if they accepted them, would be his equal.
He needed someone strong. Someone fast. Someone cunning. And most importantly, someone... loyal. Someone who wouldn’t dust their hands of this battle simply because they learned of something he withheld.
They needed to understand the pressure he was under, why it was so heavy, and then consent to carry it with him knowingly and willingly.
He couldn’t have that if he didn’t reveal everything.
But after earlier...His hope in Zylah was dwindling.She’s soft natured.More so than any other Mavka he’d observed, and the majority of the Demons he’d met.She is caring. She wants to protect and heal.
He wanted the opposite. To destroy so that he could rebuild everything with a better ideology in mind.
They were two opposing bowls on a scale.
He covered his face in annoyance.Then why the fuck am I still here if I know that?Fuck! A growl, solely at himself, slipped up his throat.
It startled the female Mavka, spooking her into waking with a gasp. She quickly sat up, bending her knees and tucking her feet to one side beneath her rump, so she sat on her hip.
“Sorry,” Jabez grumbled, rubbing at the nape of his neck in guilt at waking her when she hadn’t been asleep long.
White orbs settled into teal at his apology, and he grew annoyed at how soothing he found the natural colour of them.
Now that her orbs were bright, he was reminded of how they’d dripped with floating tears when they were that morose colour of blue. Thankfully they’d returned to their normal, alluring brightness.
He hadn’t forgotten how she’d initially tried to cling to him when she first lay down. That clinginess should have rankled him, but he found he just couldn’t muster up the annoyance at her.
Rather, he’d placed his blanket over her in hopes of soothing her hurt further – hurt she had no idea he was the reason for. Only then had sleep dragged her under, and he hadn’t missed the way she’d snuck the tip of her snout beneath the material and breathed in his scent heavily.