Her vitriol truly takes him by surprise - he stands there, dumbfounded, her words striking against him like bullets and her teeth landing a sharp and decidedly none-pleasureable bite against the thick muscle of his hindquarters.

She continues her tirade, and his initial shock quickly gives way to indignation. "I was trying to do the right thing as a friend by not forcing you into a decision that you might later regret," he retorts, his eyes flashing dangerously as he tries to keep his explosive temper in check. Now is really not the time to lose it, because recently such spurts of rage have come accompanied with an involuntary shift into his cerberus form. Transforming into a giant three-headed dog would probably not help matters, so the Indomitable does everything in his power to hold his temper in check, like a beast tethered within a cage.

This is the last damn time he tries to be a gentleman. Honestly, women!

"You want me to own up to my words, girl? You really want me to do to you all the things I've wanted to do for longer than I can remember? You don't know what you're dealing with, Erthë. I could show you things you wouldn't believe, and make you feel things you'll never want to forget, but if you think that it's going to turn into a childish fantasy about white knights and endless devotion then there's no point. This is real life, not a damn fairytale, and once you make this decision you can't go back on it. That's why I thought it best to back away, because I'd rather have blue balls than risk taking advantage of you." This is a new one - Volterra actually trying to talk a mare out of sleeping with him. Despite the evident indignation in his voice, the flashing of his eyes and the tightening of his jaw and muscles, there's also that undertone of lust that he just can't shake. For heaven's sake, why does this frosty woman shouting at him make him want her even more?

Another furious bite comes towards him, but this time the warlord is ready. He swings his massive frame out of the way and bares his own teeth at her, wolflike; there's no aggression in his posture, though, only raw passion. Virility gleams in each line of his body, testosterone evident in the arch of his neck and the thickness of his bulk; his rage only amplifies every primal hint of masculinity inside him. "Do you need me to spell it out? I want you. I could turn your world upside down, girl, but it concerns me that you may not just want what I can offer. In truth, you deserve a man who will be yours and yours alone, and I can never be that man - but I can give you this."

In a blaze of mingled temper and lust, he shifts forwards, seeking to press his body against her with renewed vigour. His teeth hunt for her withers, her back, her neck, each one aimed to ignite every last nerve in her skin, to send frissons of pleasure through her. He's fully aware that another bite may be headed in his general direction, one aimed to wound rather than arouse, but he's beyond caring. She can still push him away if she wants, but he's determined to show her what she'll be missing out on if she does.