"I'm sorry Val, I just don't trust you to do this," he growls lowly, his ears flicking around his head with visible irritation. Taking a step back, Valerian watches Alastor, saying nothing and revealing even less. "Do you really expect me to believe you still don't love Lyla? Not even a bit? I don't care if you had a brief affair or what. I have seen the way you look at El, don't think I haven't! I bet you were just waiting for Lyla to make an appearance so you could take her away again and-"
Jumping down from the table now, Valerian stalks forward with such an air of authority that Alastor's words are cut clean off. In a mere second flat Valerian's mouth is pressed up against Alastor's ear and those dark patterns are swirling back up his arm, engulfing the pale flesh of his skin like a plague sweeping over the land.
