His teeth did catch hold of the shoulder he wishes to rip apart. It was to be blood for blood though. The brute did make purchase, did taste the blood of his own, Demon blood so thick, blood that he created if he liked it or not. He snarled viciously like a train, and Andras was not in his right mind, not in a place of control anymore. He was released, untamed by Lillith who could control his desires, control his anger. He is crazed, and such a thing reflects in his sunset jewels wide and intense like wildfire gone on a rampage.

The boy was not go without his own satisfaction though. Andras may be driven by an insanity fueled by loss of his imprint, an insanity unmatched by any other, but he knew deep down that he was bringing out the darkness within his son. If the boy was going to live- let him live as a Demon should. The boy was smaller, much smaller than he. Andras was a beast of muscle, a jaw chiseled and formed for powerful bites. It was his specialty, but the boy was able to make his own marks. Meryl's teeth were to sink into his cheek, getting a rather good amount of fur but still getting flesh. Andras paid no mind though, that pain was nothing- nothing compared to Lillith being gone. He was simply doing her work in her death. She wanted Meryl dead, and he was to make him dead.

The pain of Meryl's jaws only made him barrel forward more. His jaw shifted, head twisting in an attempt to rip some fur and perhaps some flesh from the boy, to puncture further in, regardless of the damage it did to his own cheek. Andras has dealt with much worse injuries, and his face held the scars to prove it. The rage of Meryl only fueled his fire more, stoked the flames with more coal. He is the stronger wolf in every way, stronger and more powerful. He has earned this right, not just by blood, but by ensuring his body is physically at its peak at all times. He uses his muscle and force to make a sudden push forward again, to lift and put him on the ground so that he is on his side. His large left paw will adjust to land upon his chest, feeling the burn of his own blood flowing on his face.

A cold ferocity echoed on his face as he then bore down upon Meryl, his eyes really taking him in this time, seeing in full effect the creature he created, the first son of his. There was a pain deep in his sunset orbs, a pain and emptiness indescribable. His teeth were revealed in a savage snarl, his paw pushing down his weight upon him.

"Now you....you..."" he boomed, his voice fading in the wind, his snarl sudden parting from his face. The intensity of his red-lined visage lessened, and even the weight of his paw seemed to lighten. There was so much happening within, anger, pain, hatred, confusion. His eyes seem to go blank, for a moment, motionless when he could easily go in for the kill. Death was before him, right here, he could kill as Lillith commanded but without her command, without her intensity he just felt...hollow. His head pulled back a bit, almost a shock upon his face. There was a coldness that overcame here, like frost crystallizing upon him. No, his mind was not right, and likely the boy probably got another bite in if he wanted, but he could...could hardly react anyway.

"You..." he said in a whisper, his paw leaving his side, his form of darkness and blood moving to pass him. He was following an invisible path. He did not know where it would lead, but he only knew that he must follow it, that the boy was nothing in this moment. No, it was certain the brute was not of his right mind, with flashes of unbelievable anger followed by sinking into the darkest of abysses. He was a wolf troubled in ways many do not understand, many cannot even contemplate, for most do not know the torture of a stolen soul, and with that, he would disappear, into the brush and bramble where no wolf dare step.