He snapped back at her, that same anger that had initiated this whole situation and inflamed their entire relationship. Had they not argued the very first time they met? Had they not exchanged snide remarks, clever words laced in humor and irony but biting none the less all throughout their numerous encounters? Strangely, it comforted Erthë to hear his response singe her ears with vicious promises and wonderful threats. It made everything feel almost normal, as if nothing had changed and never would, as if they in mere moments would pause, glare at each other and burst out laughing at their own ridiculous intensity over something that really was quite trivial...

But she was wrong. Nothing ever remains the same. Everything changes, and they could never go back to what they had been. Erthë was burning, and Volterra's words lashed her like strokes of a whip, frightening her with their inescapable truth. She was repelled by it, entranced by it, spellbound by his virile intensity as hopelessly as if he had used magic on her. It really wasn't fair... How could he say that he was not right for her and still look at her with those eyes, as if he longed to sink his teeth into her flesh and devour her?

How was she supposed to resist him, when the sudden onslaught of his body on hers paralyzed her and numbed her tongue until no words could spill from it, even if she had known what to say?

It wasn't even that her fury abated. It was simply overcome by the red-hot jolts of pain and pleasure as his rough nips caroused her body, cruelly throwing oil on the flames while asking her to walk through it unphased. It was so confusing. He wanted her, but did he want her to want him back? Or not? Word and action felt somehow misaligned, and it was growing harder to think straight.

How was she supposed to know what she wanted when she could no longer discern what was right or wrong, good or bad? The gods had abandoned them, the Lady no longer watched over her and Erthë was lost, gone astray on a raging sea without a star to guide her. Was it so strange, then, that she would reach out to the first familiar face she saw? Was it so reckless of her to jump in without thinking, just this once?

What she really needed was time. To think this through, to search her heart and soul for a true answer, a right answer, to make a proper decision that was free from temptation or pressure or the childish desire to impress this man with her daring, nerve and fearlessness. But time was slipping away, and she had to decide now, before she lost herself entirely in Volterra's lesson.

With every ounce of willpower she possessed, the slender mare tore herself back, away from him. She thought it was the hardest thing she had ever done, and though it was almost painful to maintain the distance - his touch burning on her skin, the shimmering white curls tousled and eyes swimming with a pleasure that was nearly too much to bear - Erthë forced herself to take a long, good look at the stallion.

A long, quivering second passed. A second that felt as long as a life age, in which she did battle with herself and him and considered running away from everything he offered and threatened with.

But when had she ever run from a fight? It was not in her nature to back down from challenges, and it certainly was a major one he dangled before her nose. He'd said he wanted to back away before taking advantage of her... before she could do something she might regret. Well, that was too late anyway. She could and did carry the results of her own actions already, so what was a few more? Add them to the list, she would pay the price when her time came.

"I can take care of myself" she told him, with a haughty jerk of the neck and flashing eyes.

It was a mere second. Then she gave in to desire and drove herself back into Volterra, reaching for him as if he was the last straw that might save her from ruin. Would it hold, or would her leap of faith plunge her down into chaos and madness?

Only time would tell. She didn't care anymore, and had no thoughts left for anything but the present and the tall, dark stallion before her as she left her childhood behind, once and for all.

Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking