Jaws of immense power latched onto her scruff, his grasp firm and authoritative. She did not shy away from him, and his nostrils flared to take in her scent as he began to shake her forcibly. Her growling response was heard and felt, but ignored, perhaps to what others would have seen as his own detriment. But when she snapped at him, grabbing the fur of his neck and folds of skin found there his pupils constricted and the edges of his lips turned upwards in what could have been mistaken for a smile. Red blood immediately stained his fur, and the breaking of his skin seemed to unfetter the chains this world so failingly attempted to put on his demons. The pain brought him a sense of clarity.

When she pressed up into his jaws, he welcomed more of her into his mouth, deadly canines clenching onto her skin harder - hard enough to bruise - for a moment before he released as she dropped back to the earth. He did not deny the contact she made with him, rubbing her face into his neck and coating him with her scent. In answer to her words, he moved forward and pressed his body against hers. They stood nose to tail, and he rubbed his form callously against hers, as if he was scratching himself against a stationary object. Her nips were answered with his own, a bite to the hip before he moved around to her opposite side and rubbed himself all over her again. Though this was a behavior more often seen when a wolf scent rolled on the ground, Reaver used it in much the same way with his chosen mate. She was his, and his scent marking every inch of her being would leave no question of that.

Finally, he repaid her for breaking his skin earlier by rearing up and coming down half on top of her. One foreleg draped over her withers, while the other wrapped around the front of her chest, much of his immense weight pressing down upon her. Then, his jaws darted forward to bite the side of her face with enough force to draw blood. He did not hold her this time, though, withdrawing and then striking again. If she responded as he predicted he would, his teeth would seek to clatter with her own in a jaw spar. Each strike that brought even a shred of pain also brought him clarity, simplifying the chaotic mess that his mind so often reverted to. These were simple things - Enya was his mate, dominance was his forte, and pain was something easily understood.