Jess was not quite submitting but she was not staying still enough for Cel to finish it cleanly either. She scraped weakly at our chest with her claws, buying herself whatever time she could, and Cel let her try. She was patient in the way that confident things are patient, because she already knew how it ended. When the opening came she took it without hesitation, growling as her jaw clamped around Jess's shoulder and neck and replaced the pressure of her paw with something far more decisive. Jess's wolf growled and twisted hard, trying to pull free, but Cel only tightened her grip in response. I could feel through the bond how much she was enjoying the weight of it, the taste of blood at the edge of her teeth, the particular satisfaction of holding something completely and absolutely still.
