Ravensblood Forest calling me names just because of my skin color, you know?

To him, he secured victory as she didn't recoil away from his touch. The longer he lingered, the tighter his coils would wound around her petite body, soon enough venom would seep into her veins the longer she was exposed to the viper of a man. Unlike most brutes who relied on heavy musculature and savagery, he had his own slow way of getting what he wanted. Manipulation was a powerful tool, to infiltrate feelings and one's mind had its own permanent scars to worry about, one of which was hard to ignore in comparison to the marked flesh. 

He hummed softly into her neck at her uncertainty, the willingness to trust him was more than enough to please him.  Masking the grin, he shifted his position on her skin, facing toward her cheek all the while keeping his warmth against hers. She liked it, he could tell. If you're so worried, why not tell me these things you could offer? He inched closer. Like a lover's embrace, he caressed the curves of her neck and jawline with the side of his muzzle. Light, but ever so present. Give me a taste of what's to come with my loyalty. Finally he rested the top of his snout under her chin, ears flat against his skull.

Unlike Donovan, Abaddon knew how to work his way around another. How to draw them in properly. He was slow, patient. Moving with a calculated pace given the situation. Here there was no rush. If he truly wanted to sink his claws into this one, the wounds had to be deep, entwined with her thoughts - should the mere scent of him cross her path in the future it would make her heart flutter.