The warm, indulgent smile that Alaïa gave her sire was something of a rarity to all but him. She had plenty of smiles, of course, for plenty of people... but they were certainly not all sincere. Most of them stopped long before they reached her dark eyes. For Byron, though, there was nothing but affection and fondness. He was the one creature she never seemed to tire of.
Her eyes lit a little further at the swipe of the blade, though. It was sharp, so sharp that the human didn't feel it slice into the skin of her cheek; she didn't realize what had happened until she felt the blood warm on her cheek. Alaïa paused, inhaled appreciatively, and then tipped her head up to daintily lick the fresh blood from the edge of the blade. "Perfect. Not to sound conceited, but I think I made an excellent choice for us."