He tries so hard to hide from her, because she doesn't know what he's capable of. She thinks she does, but she doesn't. There is a monster that dwells inside him, as permanent as the marrow in his bones, and she is weak and powerless to stop him if it comes to surface against her. She doesn't know what she's dealing with, what she's vouching for, and he can't stand it. Doesn't she know? Can't she feel it in her skin, the desire to get away? He had been ready and willing to kill Aurelia for trying to hurt Kahlua, and they hadn't even been mated. Doesn't she know what he'd do, if they did this? If he allowed himself to fall for her, and she for him? Nothing would stop him next time, not even Archibald. He would murder anyone who touched her. He was dangerous, and she was fragile, and he would shatter her so quickly he wouldn't even have time to mourn. 

And he can feel it stirring inside his chest, the ravenous hunger for blood as she speaks, recounting tales of violence as easily as can be done. But it's not easy for him, not when he can feel her words slipping away in his head, until he's not sure what she's saying because he has to fight for every bit of knowledge of Helovian language that he has. Because it's so easy for him to forget, and he can't let her be caught in the crossfire when he loses it. And he's distracted by her words, by trying to understand, by trying to not explode into a rage and hunt down those who hurt her like the animal he is and slaughtering them. There would be no mercy, no reprieve, and she would hate him. She would see him covered in blood and gore and she would know that she could never be safe at his side. That nobody else could be safe if he let himself love her. 

Everything rights itself as she snags her teeth into his mane, and a part of him pulses hot with pride and lust that she takes control so quickly, rips him back to her regardless of their size differences and doesn't let him escape. But he has to. And his words are lumped in his throat and she keeps talking and he loves her so much and she's going to break him.

And she calls him Aeo's father and suddenly his eyes are streaming and he can't breathe and he can't do this anymore. "I can't," he babbles, chest heaving with the storm inside him, lets her draw him in for a brief moment. Lets himself be weak, to hold her against his skin, and then rips away even as it feels like he's tearing his own heart out. "I can't, I can't hurt you, I'm sorry," and he's barely even understanding what words his tongue is giving off anymore, can't think past the paniclovemateBrisaAeohappysadpain that's ricocheting inside his brain. "I need -" what does he need? Space? Time? Will any of that change how he feels about her? "I'm so sorry," he chokes, and turns to try and run. She can chase him, she can yell, but he can fly and he will win. He has to, he can't afford to be weak, not with her on the line.