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For the supposed bearer of Truth, Pure Vanilla Cookie is captivating in his self-imposed ignorance. The other alpha hasn’t noticed the creeping change of his scent, while it had always had an unusual sweetness to it, the once earthy undertones of black tea have lightened, turned to the subtle fruitiness of a camellia on the cusp of blooming. But, Shadow Milk has no interest in plucking this particular flower early. No, he’ll have him overripe, tender flesh leaking juices at the slightest touch, overpowering in his sweetness, pungent to the point of verging on rot. He will have his Truthless Recluse, his silly Nilly flayed open and desperate, so broken down by foreign instincts that he won’t know up from down, much less what he should or should not want.
Any day now, his first heat will be upon him, and he will beg for Shadow Milk to take him, to knot and claim him, to finish his transformation into the perfect doll.
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Summary
His time as the Truthless Recluse has revealed 3 things to Pure Vanilla.
1. Shadow Milk's obsession over the Soul Jam extends to the Truthless Recluse
2. Shadow Milk Cookie if given the chance could be a doting parent
3. Pure Vanilla Cookie would do anything to tie Shadow Milk to himOr
Pure Vanilla sets out to baby trap Shadow Milk
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“Don’t act like you wouldn’t care!” Jon jabs a stubby finger at him as if he’s won.
“I—” Jonah falls still, hands dropping back into his lap, “I don’t think I would.”
“What?” Jon’s hand falls.
“What?” Jonah shrugs, though there’s nothing behind it, “Say I kill you here and now, and then go through all the steps again. The world ends and everyone is swept into their little pigpens of torment, the Mother will waltz in and take credit for my success and my downfall, and then I’ll find myself here again. What’s the point?”
“You’re terrified of dying!”
“I don’t need a grand ritual to continue on.” Jonah laughs,

