A Cowboy's Conviction

It was late, no one was home, and Blitzo was bored.

He was posing in front of the mirror, shaking his tail.

In nothing but a pair of black jeans and an open shirt, a silver cross rested against his chest. A soft gleam of silvery-white peaking out

Eat your heart out, Verosika.

His phone rang. Catching him off guard, he fumbled, trying to grasp the costly cellphone before it shatters. In the frenzy, his thumb smashes on the send button.

Stella, who had stolen Stola's phone from their bedroom, was holding a a discussion with Striker.

This right here is what I'm fucking talking about!, Striker! Look at this disgusting display of affection!.

The Cowboy tilts his hat up, his glowing green eyes roaming over every inch of the picture.

Yes ma'am What would you like me to do about him? He asks flipping through the phone, trying to get a feel for his primary target.

While sending himself various pictures of Blitzo in poses, he desires to his own.

What does Blitz see in him?

it was just a meal ticket to the human realm, but the Cowboy had his doubts.

I want you to keep this Imp out of MY HOUSE!, I want you to FINISH your job!, I want my husband, DEAD!

BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY. I DON T CARE WHO GETS IN The WAY! I WANT THEM DEALT WITH DO YOU HEAR ME, STRIKER! Stella yells, drumming her fingers on the desk.

I WANT HIS SEVERED HEAD ON MY DESK WITHIN THE NEXT THREE WEEKS!

Yes, ma'am, I will not fail you again. You've made your intentions perfectly clear.

His tail rattles, his eyes dark as he crushes Stolas's phone in his hands.

"Leave Blitz to me, I'll get him next time."

You've better! This is your last chance. If You fail me again, I will destroy you!

Place the Imps heart in this and bring it back to me, so I can see the look of despair in his eyes when I show him what is left of his precious little plaything!

She hands him the sapphire gold-encrusted box to the Cowboy.

As he leaves the owl estate and Stella behind, he stops, tilts his hat with his tail, and looks at the moon, recalling their time together at the harvest moon festival.

The pain games.

The Sheer intensity of his amber gaze, the weight of his body bearing down on him in the mud. A Giant smile spreading across the reptilian's face as his tail rattles. Sliding up Blitzo's leg, winding itself around his thigh and squeezing.

Suggestively.

Causing the owl Prince to fall out of his perch. Blitzo grips the tail with his claws, but Striker has him pinned, pulling on the rope with one foot on Blitzo's back as the crowd cheers. It isn't long before Blitz is on his feet, wrapping his arms around Striker's neck and pulling him back into the mud. Striker wedges his knee between Blitzo's legs.

Causing Stolas to topple into the mud, bringing with him Wally wackford.

Then there was that botched assassination attempt.

The untapped potential that Striker wanted to covet.

And tap into himself. Multiple times. Beneath Millie's bedroom sheets.

Striker wants all that- and more.

He looks into Blitzo's smiling face, tracing it with his fingertips.

He wanted to open his eyes.

To show him that there were more than one road he could take.

He wants to show him what he stands to gain if he willing lose first.

Blitzo would have no other choice, he'd have to join him or risk everything he workd so hard for crumble before his very eyes.

. Blitzo doesn't know what Striker is capable of doing, The Rogue had done dreadful deeds for less in the past.

The Cowboy envisions ripping Blitz's heart out and putting it in the small chest.

Striker envisions Blitzo splayed out over his desk, both hand bracing himself against the desk. a startled expression on his face as Striker grinds into his ass from behind. The carmine rifle caressing his jawline. Blitzo's tail is in the air while Striker's is wrapped around Blitzo's mouth to keep him from screaming.

Striker shivers, licking his lips. Having to kill Blitzo was an unpleasant thought.

But who said, It had to Blitzo's heart in the Box when a small possum lived close by.

Either way, Stolas had touched Blitzy for the last time.

Blitzo would be made to join him in life, or he would be made to join him in death.

The Outlaw held no qualms about that.

A Swan Song was just beginning.

Who it was, was left to be left undecided.

No, Striker was every bit as capable of following Stella's orders.

But he had an agenda of his own. One that stars Blitz as a critical player.

ANY MEANS NECESSARY! Stella's voice rang in his head, sure that those words would come back to bite her in the ass someday. Not even Octavia is safe from her mom's vengeful wrath. Let alone the assassin she fucking hired.

Octavia was the best bet if he wanted to get to Stolas.

Then there was Blitz, Stolas's impish plaything.

The Cowboy could be very convincing if he wanted to. He played Blitzo like a well-oiled violin and almost had him too.

He was sure he could get into his head again, find him in a seedy underground bar and corner him. If his mind games didn't work, he could also use the threat of family, and if that didn't work- he would rather covet Blitzo's heart than let him remain as Stolas's plaything.

He chuckled as he made his way through the steely gates and out into the streets.

If Stella wanted a heart, why not give her what she wanted.

The heart of her only child.