The Sunspire Death Is A War[M] Blanket

Donovan thoroughly enjoys aggravating the other. The swirls of anger that seems to mix in with his green irises. Along with the brows that furrow and crinkle the other wolf’s between his eyes make Donovan fucking laugh.

Out of nowhere, or perhaps Donovan should’ve expected it, the cobalt male is shooting towards him. The intent to knock Donovan over is obvious by the strength he puts behind it. Though Donovan probably could’ve fought against the movement to push him over, he doesn’t. He allows the other to throttle him around for now. Surely the smaller knows that Donovan could easily overpower him, so Donovan will play along for now.

Just as Donovan has rolled into his back, his canary orbs look up to him and his smile is rightfully devilish. He waits for Clay to lose his cool, to bite at him last he did earlier. To try and truly grab a hold of him and try to shake him to death. It won’t do much good anyway. So Donovan does the only other thing he knows how to do; fan the fire.

“Yes sir.” Comes the brindled man’s surly purr. “Donovan, as you know. Grandmaster, or alpha, of the Saints of the Dying Light — my pack.” He says the words at an easy pace. Allowing his hind foot to rest softly on the other stomach, much too close to Clay’s more sensitive regions.