The Infernal Serpent

"Perhaps I should have said something to him sooner," Balthazar says softly, mind and Grace still racing. "If I had asked him to distance himself for my sake..."

Maybe he should have been more jealous, after all, but he wasn't sure it was his place. He rubs the ring on his finger with the opposite hand, distractedly. Well it's damn well about to be his place, now.

He shivers, struggling with his own emotion, then abruptly turns into Thnisko and hugs him closer with wings and arms together, channeling his uncertainty into comfort. "I'm sorry. Overhearing that must have been awful for you, as well. I'm sorry."

His mind fires off in several directions at once. What does this mean for Sin? Is she in danger? Was this kink gone terribly wrong or a violent attempt to dominate and humiliate Lucifer? And if there was magical binding involved, he's going to need to find a counterspell, because even if Dorian never cares to make the attempt again, someone else could use similar knowledge to their advantage.

"I can see the problem," he murmurs after a moment, voice taut with distress. "He can't afford to look weak, but he can't let the news slip out to angels who'd lose their temper on his behalf, either."

Quite frankly, the idea of gutting Dorian is highly appealing to Balthazar right now, but he's still got his saving grace and he's far more worried about healing wounds than making new ones, even in the richly deserving.