Two Eyes Cenote [cp] [m] hunger of the pine,

Her sweet voice;

And from his throat rumbled a wordless answer and he moved to stand behind her, draping her neck in the celestial collar with hardened paws. “You are the blood of the Goddess,” he whispered from behind, “and I, the blood of the God.”

His paws then reached to guide what they had once caressed; spinning his intended to face him. He drank her femininity in with his eyes, the gentle curves of her sleek body. He thrummed with red flame. His eyes pooled in her light and in his sight he would see her bloom.

“Every part of me has been yours, always,” and in the words she would see no hesitation, only wanting – Their fire, its timelessness, would be made more divine when burning past the open gates of this night and a new promise. Let the others withhold and toil for mortal’s sake. They were Gods, she and he. They rewrote this world in their power, with their pleasure.

He nosed the cusp of her neck, sliding her blond strands between his lips. She felt delicate and sweet, an untouched bride on the eve of her wedding. Perfect.

“Bind yourself to me, Toula.” He pressed her down towards the glimmering pelts.

Now.