Mount Everfall the black parade

Qvasir’s patience snapped. Without a word, he surged forward, his powerful frame closing the gap between them in a single stride. His jaws clamped around the scruff of her neck with controlled force, and he drove her to the ground, her lithe body crumpling beneath his superior strength.

The weight of him pressed down hard enough to leave no room for doubt about who held the upper hand. His snarl ripped through the air, a guttural, bone-chilling sound that made it clear he was done with her antics.

He stood over her, his pale eyes blazing with unrestrained fury as his breath huffed hot against her ear. Without hesitation, he spat, the glob landing beside her head in a sharp, deliberate motion—a wordless declaration of disdain.

Enough, he growled low, his voice like the rumble of distant thunder. His teeth flashed dangerously close to her cheek as he spoke, the raw authority in his tone brooking no argument.

Qvasir lingered only a moment longer before stepping back, his presence no less commanding as he loomed over her prone form. His gaze remained locked on hers, daring her to defy him again.