Her knees hitting the hard carpet covered earth sent shocks up her thighs and into her spine. The wrist wrapped in his powerful grip tugged at his confines, not ready to give in. On her knees between his, the position only gave the illusion of power - or so she told herself. Being forced to bow did not impart loyalty and she was intent to never be a willing servant.<br/><br/>It was the swiftness with which he moved that surprised her now. Reflexes left untrained in most were honed so perfectly in him. Before she could react, his hand left he wrist to grip her skull instead. Red tresses fell wild around her shoulders and as she resisted his tense arm, eyes that hid nothing focused on his dark gaze. In a need for more leverage against his strength, her hands instinctively braved herself on his knees, but only so she could fight against what he wanted.<br/><br/>The shewolf gritted her teeth, never averting her eyes. He forced her head down, and while she made him at least work for it, she understood she’d never win. Every fight would end with his victory. He’d conquer her over and over, in any way he saw fit and she already understood how horrific that might one day turn out to be. So when he’d finally worked her face to hover over the bowl, her stomach anxious for the contents but mind needing to prove a point, she knew she’d either eat like the animal she was or he’d drown her in stew.<br/><br/>Lazily, her green gaze still looking up at him, she licked the surface of the meaty stew. His hand strokes over her hair, the mess kept away from her face and the bowl just as he’d said. A kind gesture steeped in cruelty. One more reason to hate him.