He was moved like an animal is for prey. They way she invented space between them, her retreat inviting for anyone who had a contrary, violent or human streak. His breath rolled over his lower teeth as he inclined forward, wanting to cut her off as she tried to flee. The hesitation in her bones made her even more irresistible. Please, Mr. Lion, I am just some well-shaped venison, come into your cave. His heart roared like that totem, to expel the human insult that tried to take this moment for itself. His parts wanted to impale her, destroy her again.<br/><br/>She was giving off the kind of air that revealed her attitude thus far only as teasing. He'd never known if he hadn't killed her, that she was completely available. He wanted to claw her up and gnaw on her spread ribs. He wanted to make the softest love. How lovely she could be, when the greatest harm one person could do to another wouldn't phase her, wouldn't even cost her the day. She could be at the end of all his frustration, and her skin would have as many lives as he had impulses to break it. Roan knew the surge to his center.<br/><br/>But he wasn't just that animal. He was a rampaging boy, who'd always been beautiful and drawing. He had the luxury to think there was more to life than what he could bed and love. His arm flung out, a tantrum. "Forgive me!" he asked and there was great insult in the bedroom air. "For what?" He was calming down, his words no longer barks. His brilliant skin cut through with his mischievous hair. "For hunting? Because I didn't kill a person, just now. I don't think you have the leverage, Iris." he pointed out. Cruel lover, who'd adored her so much he'd taken her lung's before.<br/><br/>He turned away, even though he wanted to see if her blood would travel back into her body if he spilled it. This was a fantastical discovery, something for the future, something that explained the world. It was also a trifle between two people who hadn't straighten out their attachment. He wiped his lower lip with the ball of his wrist. It was an angry gesture. He was an angry soul. Roan's shoulders suggested her was leaving. How hard it was to be with him, and how badly he wanted her to suffer it. He had her secret, and he was, in a way, waving it at her as kidnappers do their captives.<br/><br/>"What if this is us?" what if this is our end, he meant. "I don't know why you couldn't tell me. You're some creature, aren't you? And you couldn't even think of me as the monster I was begging you to see." Childish but raw. And completely truthful. He shook his head and stood. The intimacy between them, punctuated by her death and rise, broke like an unwanted string for cold fingers off old clothes. "I will not forget." he muttered and looked at the door. Was this a kind of final upheaval? Would his resolve last longer than her death? "Your silence... it wasn't kind to me."