Biography Love and Death are coexisted. Funny. Belle never expected either of those things. Like a Praying Mantis, she'd mate with a male, and then kill him. Birth his pups and rinse and repeat. She hated commitment. She ran through three males already and it's intoxicating, the thrill of being bored of mates, the excitement of sinking her canines into their throats while they slept, feeling their last breaths against her tongue that pressed against their fur. Belle *loved* to kill, to be the cause of death. Maybe... it was a toxic trait of hers, a trait she got from her father, maybe even her mother. She wasn't sure.
He's different though, he found her in a clearing, hunting her kill. He wooed her, she hadn't been wooed before, she didn't know what that feeling was like. Interesting, curious, sharp and intense. She'd taken a liking to him, fought him for the kill she wanted, and they both were a panting mess of blood by the end of it, an equal. "What do you want?" she barked at him, eyeing the deer. "You" he had said, and for the first time, Belle didn't know what to do. Love. No? Maybe. She didn't know. She was a killer. She wasn't a lover. But... he *wooed* her, he killed *for* her attention, not the other way around, not how she'd lure males to mate, to exist, to kill. He took the time, he had watched her, he had moved for her. Love? Interesting. She brought him back to her pack of misfits and forgottens, to rule beside him, so, exist with him. He was her final mate, she decided. He killed for her. He loved her skill.
He was her Love to her Death. Beautiful. Enticing. Wild.
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