Swiftcurrent Creek your heart [m]

“”

And as Sos murmured once more his will, his desire, Lecter felt the sharp blade of horror pierce his heart, but he could do nothing against his God; claws gripped the loam in one last protest before the Dark Bear absorbed his shaman fully. Thus in thrall, the pale witch watched with blossoming pride the bowed head of his supplicant, and rumbled a low sound of approval within his throat.

It was Sos who lifted Lecter's body in slow strides toward Clarice, puppetting the body of the shaman. He was removed; he could not cease his steps, nor could his emotions, shoved together into a jumble, cut through the will of his deity.

And so His muzzle lifted, and traced a gentle line from Clarice's brow to the corner of her mouth; He set His jaw alongside her own, intending that she look into His eyes and know His might and His power.

It was not the soft kiss of a father that Lecter placed upon Clarice's virginal mouth; it was the possessive taste of a God who had looked down upon a mortal who pleased the carnality of His lecher. Icewater eyes, now grown dark with the presence of Sos within Lecter's mind, shone with a demands, and brief affection intermingled with an utter and all-devouring lust.