Luneshale Pass Hazırlıklar

Samir’s golden eyes flashed, a brief, predatory glint lighting them as Arslan’s snap landed against his jowl. The feline man stood still for a beat, an eerie, violent silence encompassing him—before lips curled into a slow, deliberate smirk. A face of patience—

—though his eyes betrayed the simmering anger below.

"Oh, Nefer," he spoke as if having to bite back his snarl, "such fire. You forget yourself."

Without hesitation, he moved, his paw pressing firmly against Arslan’s chest, enough to tip the smaller wolf back just slightly. His muzzle dipped low, brushing along Arslan’s cheek before stopping at his ear. "My little wife?" His voice was mocking, grating, a warm fire against his red fur. "Wives are cherished, adored… and owned."

He pulled back just enough to meet Arslan’s gaze, growing still. Silent.

Then, he struck. A cruel predator snapping out of the darkness to consume it's prey. His teeth gnashed close to Arslan's face, forcing him down, down into the dirt of the desert sand below. Above his mate he hovered, icy bridgework near quaking from the bravado of his snarl. It echoed into the night.

When he spoke, it was cold. "I do so wish to forgive your insolence, my little lion."