Deceit, at its Best

'So she had interacted with the soft hearted idiot, ' Slade internally scoffed. Then they both be fools.

Slade stood, making a slow circular path around the dainty little femme. His voice lowered, seeming to drown out all other sounds, except his voice.
Compared with the horror tell lighting, this was bound to get good.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I feel bad for you, miss Finley. Do you find him sweet? Caring? Gentle? That man is everything but such lies. His façade worked on you, I see. And I warn you, once he has a hold of you, it will only be death that lets you go."

The dark king finished his orbit, staying straight into the soft irises of the small fuel.

"You see, Adair is a murderer. He's killed countless wolves. And then, thrives on the pity of others, only to kill them. I bet he's told you a tale of how hard his life is, how he might have to leave his pack for a better one. .. the truth is, Finley, he's a nomad. He doesn't stay in a pack very long. He kills, and keeps moving. His truths, the deceit, is st it's best, with him."