Shadow Mountain dig so deep for scars

"You."

Never had a word been spoken with such a desire, an impulsive claim of hunger that echoed deep within the blackened depths of her minacious chest. She could feel whispers test the strength of her lips, their lust to escape from the shackles that bore them to her will - would they bend to the sharpness of her incisors, or would they boil from her skull and slither into the air without her voice to guide them? 

Their union would be one to remember, perhaps; but her soul was not ready to descend into a being of another world, a ghostly apparition of the glory she'd held within her own ink-lavished paws. She enjoyed her power in life far too much to slink into the darkness of another, even to guide his poorly managed mind - she'd considered pulling his head from his body, dangling his pallid skull amongst her collections of gore. It would look stunning beside her prizes, but no, they would become one. Not yet, but oh, as he sprung at her with the speed of a cheetah, she barely had time to scramble to the side, prancing just out of reach.

"Not yet," She would whisper against his ear; his teeth, so sworn to their task, would pierce skin - not enough for death to claim her body, but enough for crimson blood to trickle from beneath her coat of black, and her eyes of violet watched him with a tenacious glee. A taste - he had asked for a taste, so only a taste she would give.