Overture Downs your mother's throat clicks and my spirit swims right to the hook

Aventus had to hand it to Phaedra: she was one stubborn bitch.

Here might be the part where his father would part his jaws to take a maiden's throat between his teeth to crush it. His sister might well have done the same. Aventus was made at once of weaker and stronger stuff than the rest of his family. He felt not the thrum of blood hunger in his veins when she pushed back against him, but the pulse of teenage lust, zinging down between his legs with a suddenness that startled him.

So much so that he backed off, nearly tempted to cross his legs to hide the ugly little thing peeking out down below, and sneered around what once was a killdeer. Prior to today, only the sharp smell of coyote blood in his nose provoked his body to react this way. How dare she do what only violence could. How dare she!

I am not a cow, he said stiffly around his pulpy prize, but even Aventus could feel embarrassed at his body's weakness. He no longer felt any need to prove anything to Phaedra, and instead warred with the impulse to flee. Him! Flee her!