The low growl that affirmed that he successfully had claimed Jace’s attention was heard when Ira’s ears cupped forth, his sneer haughty and wicked, childhood mischief having morphed into something darker. Of course, it could have just been Jace’s presence. It was no secret that the two ex-Creek wolves held equal amounts of animosity and disdain for one another and Ira had no intentions of changing that. A dark, sardonic laugh lacking with clarity the mirth that was normally associated with such action left Ira seconds after Jace’s low growl had reached the pallid Princeling’s ears. “If you’re going to growl and hiss at me darling you should make it more threatening,” Ira taunted, getting a sick glee out of pushing all of Jace’s buttons like a child, unrestrained in a toy store. That’s exactly what Jace was: a toy to Ira who was looking to wreak havoc for the self fulfillment of mending his wounded and shredded pride.
“Just for you, you cur” Ira tittered in a mimicry of a very high pitched female voice though his boyishly handsome face was contorted and ugly with malice and venom. If he was a King Cobra he would have been swaying with his taunts, eyeing his toy, waiting patiently for the perfect moment to strike. Perhaps, instead of the spawn of Satan as Jace considered Ira was really just a cobra in the form of a wolf. “If you’re going to insult me by calling me the names of your other lovers at least stick with one and use it,” Of course that taunt brought with it the realization that Jace had once confirmed that the pallid Princeling had once thought: that his name Ira did sound rather girly, though there was nothing girly about the Princeling’s body or face as he endured the horrific threshes of puberty. “I’m wounded,” The Princeling said with faux offense at Jace’s blatant incursion of words, though his pale eyes danced with malicious jubilation at their little game.
“Oh you mean the wound? Don’t worry Sleeping Beauty it will heal,” Ira spoke of it dismissively. It might heal, and if he was lucky it wouldn’t scar but he would never forget how he had received, it or why, or what it might cost him in the near future. It was curious however that Jace was in this pack and no longer apart of Swiftcurrent creek and for a moment Ira entertained the notion of if his departure had anything to do with Bones’ kidnapping. Immediately, he wanted to slam the blame on Jace who was supposed to be protecting her but had, obviously failed. He wanted to viciously throw it in this vermin’s face and he would though the direction of their current conversation would depend upon when it was brought up.
For now, Ira was amused by their exchange of petty remarks.
