Raven's Watch [m] α

he watched as the wild man moved closer to ayovi, his filthy form brushing against her pristine coat. his stomach churned at the sight, at the mockery on the man’s face, and his ears pinned back. the beast dared to question him, dared to ask if he had hurt her. as if faust had ever needed to lie to her, as if his honesty and care had not already been proven.

he asked if i hurt you, he said, his voice even, though there was a sharpness beneath it, an edge that cut deep into the cold air between them. his golden eyes flicked to ayovi, searching, hoping she would answer honestly as she always had. he had been truthful thus far, trusting her to see that, to return it. to see him.

but what he saw now—her hesitance, her shame—it stung worse than any bite. she could not seriously be considering this man. this filthy, stinking, ugly man. faust’s teeth clicked together audibly as his jaw tightened, restraining the disgust and rage that boiled within him. his gaze bore into her, heavy and unyielding, daring her to meet it.

was she so desperate to run from him? after all he had done, all he had given her? the thought was bitter, and it clawed at his chest. he had carried her when she couldn’t walk. he had fed her when she couldn’t hunt. he had protected her, and now—this?

you cannot sully yourself this way, ayovi, his voice dropped lower, softer, yet no less firm. the words were not just a plea—they were a command. not with him. not like this.

faust stepped forward, his frame towering, casting a long shadow over the wild man. his bite was coiled, waiting, ready to be unleashed. but first—he needed her answer. her choice.

is this what you want? he asked, his tone daring her to speak, daring her to confirm what he feared. he would not act until he knew, but his patience was thinning, his disgust threatening to boil over. he would not let the wild man take her—not before he did.