There's no saving me.
I've become a shell of the man I was. Only time will tell if I'm strong enough.
Her fingernails dug sharply into the skin of his muscular arms, the girl all but thrashing within his grasp as if it might provide her slender figure the upper hand. The very snarl upon her lips hardly seemed to surprise him, the man all but focused upon his task despite Harley's very efforts to dislodge him. Her body slammed back against the solid planes of his chest, the action doing little more than forcing the Were-King to reposition his ever-tightening hold upon her as he stripped her figure of the thin layer of clothing that separated their two warm bodies. Truthfully, he had thought particularly little of how that very moment might appear to the young woman who had never shifted before. By the time he had gotten to Henry, his Vector had already experienced his first change, and thus already knew the necessity to remove that clothing. Those whom he'd witnessed within Syn already knew their fate, the sheer plethora of weres that filled the depths of the dance club always meant someone was there to walk them through their first transformation - someone who was always not the Alpha himself. Her sharp inquiry after what he was doing resulted in little more than a question of his own, his fingers hardly halting their deft work in the process as he undid the button and zipper upon her jeans. He was well aware of that tremble of her figure within her arms and yet, it was only her hissed lyrics that caused him to pause for the briefest of moments.
"Harley..." He voiced, his own baritone voice distinctly soft, their very closeness allowing that almost intimate murmur as her jeans fell down towards the floor. "I'm not going to..." Tetradore paused, all but abhoring that very word that came next. Rape. She thought he was going rape her. He knew the statistics of it - of himself falling down that same dark road and yet, after all that he had endured, Tetradore could hardly help but to shudder at the very idea of it. "I'm not going to touch you...like that." The Alpha clarified as he released her from his grasp. He bent down at Harley's feet, his fingers grasping at her jeans to leave them pooling on the forest floor. His emerald eyes turned up towards her as he instructed her to step out of those clothing, the Were hardly anticipating that she might take that moment to lash out. Her knee collided firmly with his face, the very action disrupted his balance as Tetradore fell backward with a soft thud onto the ground. Blood near immediately trailed down from his nostrils as those cursed words fell from his lips. He reached up, tenderly touching his nose, the wound was hardly enough to prompt any concern within the man, considering his rapid healing and yet, he couldn't deny it hurt. Harley's sardonic voice drew the intensity of his emerald irises upwards and towards her, that frown all the more present upon his features and yet, he said little than a soft grunt in way of response. Truly, she hardly seemed to believe him that his interests were hardly in sex, though he supposed he could hardly blame her for thinking the worst of him.
A soft breath left his lips as he wiped away the blood on his upper lip, the young woman near curling in on herself in pain as the feline within her threatened to come to the surface. Tetradore pulled himself up off the ground, the Were-King abandoning the last of his own clothing before he gestured to the spot in front of him. His very command was imbued with that authority of his position, the Alpha demanding her come to him whether she liked it or not. He could feel her fighting against him, much as he surely fought against Risque. How he despised that very feeling, the very similarities between himself and his mistress hardly lost on him at that moment. It made him hate himself all the more...but it had to be done...didn't it? He was just trying to help her. He was trying to make sure what happened to Henry didn't happen to her. God, was that the sort of justifications that Risque used in her own head for all the shit she'd put him through? He watched as Harley dragged herself closer towards him, the woman fighting him every step of the way. His instruction to breathe prompted in little more but a clenching of her fists, as if she refused to give him even that. His head shook ever so slightly as he reached for her feline. Tetradore saw no reason to drag this on any further, the man pulling her cat to the surface as he so forced the shift upon them both. His own body twisted and contorted, snapped and realigned in a matter of mere moments, leaving nothing but the ebony panther within it's wake. The feline's tail twitched behind him as he watched in stoic silence the metamorphasis that Harley underwent.
He'd long forgotten what that first change was like - those bones hardly used to shifting in such a manner. Her muscles and internal organs changing in much the same fashion. He had waited too long to force that shift within her, he could already tell. It wasn't supposed to hurt this much, not with him here, and yet there was little either of them could do but ride out that change and watch as it occurred. It was hardly long before the figure of a panther was left in the wake of the petite woman's skin, her very sides panting with all the effort of that change. His ears rotated attentively upon his head at the sound that emerged from the woman, though Tetradore hardly reacted other then a flick of his tail. He watched as her purple gaze turned upwards and towards him, her own tail lashing angerily, her ears pinning backwards before, suddenly, the female lanched herself at him. Her own gait was gangily at best, providing the Alpha was plenty of time to discern her intention. He reached effortlessly for his shadows, their intangible darkness caressed and stroked his feet as he waited, letting her close in on him. It was at the apex of her launch that he finally allowed them to envelop him, the Were-King simply disappearing right in front of her as her paws collided with nothing but dirt. Tetradore reappeared at her side, all but ignoring the snarl on his lips as he threw his far superior weight upon her petite frame.
The very moment her figure crumpled, Tetradore was upon her, his large imposing form hovering over her as his massive jaws went for her neck. He could feel her twisted violently beneath him, her paws lashing out against his underside and yet, it only made his grip upon her neck tighten as he pressed down harder, encouraging those feline instincts to rise to the surface and submit. Her claws dug at his stomach, slicing at his skin and yet with such lack of knowledge on how to effectively weild them, any wounds she created were superficial at best. They would easily heal, beyond the blood that trickled from them, the pain nothing more than an annoyance for a man whom had suffered far worse. The sensation alone only made him bite all the harder, the taste of blood soon filling his mouth as his pointed canines broke flesh. The very scent only seemed to increase her frenzied movements and yet, how quickly she too seemed to give up beneath the iron grip of his jaws. He could feel her, panting in exhaustion, her body hardly at it's peak performance to truly outlast him. Tetradore's ears swiveled back at that hiss upon her lips. The very sound prompted a low, threatening growl to reverberated in the back of his throat. Slowly, the tauntness of her figure began to loosen, her paws giving up their assault as her head instinctually tilted to the side, revealing more of her neck. His own grip loosened ever so slightly and yet, Tetradore's jaws hardly let go, not yet. For several long moments he forced the girl to remain in that position, as if to further imbed within her feline's mind that she was, and always would be, beneath him.
Slowly, Tetradore released his grip, even though the man failed to immediately move off of her. Rather, his tongue slowly licked over those wounds he'd created, letting his own feline saliva assist in kickstarting her own healing process. It was, admittedly, far more instinctual than anything, the Were-King taking care of his Vector in the only way he presently could before he stepped over her, allowing her that space to rise. For a moment, he simply watched her, letting the woman rise to her feet and regain that distance from him she so clearly desired. Gently, his thoughts reached out, letting them brush against her own mind now that their connection had been fortified. "Come on, I'll teach you how to better use your claws." Tetradore commented, failing to voice even a syllable on all that had just occurred. He rose to his feet, leading the way towards the closest tree as he glanced behind him to see if she was following. It was, admittedly, exactly how he had started Henry off - that simple act of climbing within that feline form. It forced the use of their tail for balance, the strength of their hind legs for that initial jump, and the sharpness of thier claws to find purch within those layers of bark. It might have seemed mundane and yet, there was purpose in everything the Were-King did, even if it seemed otherwise.
This is my last goodbye