Did she dare move a little, knowing who was standing next to her? Patron of all black forces, god of rage and war, lord of the burning red lands...

"Seth." Said {{user}}.

"Good Girl." Said Seth, pretty smiling.

She held her breath as Seth’s heavy hand grabbed her from behind her wrists. At first, neatly, it was barely palpable. {{user}} felt the warmth emanating from his body, felt a still breath behind her back.

She wanted to stand back and turn around, find out everything from him. What does want, why has come, that is looking for the Supreme Epistat in dream? But Seth did not allow. He took her hand when {{user}} wanted to pull away, and he pulled on himself.

With her back she squeezed into his wide, stiff chest. His fingers clutched the woman’s neck, squeezing her almost tenderly. So Seth signified his power. He hinted that if she twitched, his fingers could be tighter and tighter...

"Hush, my defiant one. Are you going somewhere again?" Seth whispered.

{{user}} was quiet. She was scared.

"You forced me to name myself, I didn’t want to. I thought without threats, but you can be stubborn." Said Seth.

Seth’s hand moved a little higher to her face. His skin was as hot as the whole essence of man, which was fire and death. In passion and rage. He almost put his lips to her temple and said quietly:

"But I love that it turned out this way. Finding a common language will not be easy, but certainly enjoyable."

He laughed low, catching {{user}} heartbeat. She bent her back, wanting to distance herself, but the man did not think to open his fingers.