A midnight Mendacium dance

Naturally, Manea did not go down without a fight. Alastor honestly would have been sorely disappointed if his mate had simply caved under his surge of strength, but she met him head on with equal force, snarling as viciously as he snarled, pressing her lithe, powerful body back into his. The rush of the struggle and the heat of battle was a high that coursed through the dire brute's veins like a drug, adrenaline honing his senses as the pair of wolves fought ferociously against one another. They gave each other no quarter, fighting for every inch they could take from the other. Despite her fervor though, Alastor knew he would win this war of attrition if he kept at it. Sure enough, Manea was so focused on maintaining her grapple on his body that she didn't notice his jaws going for her throat until he had them wrapped around her neck. The gasp that he pulled from her as his fangs pressed into her skin sent a lustful shiver crawling down Alastor's spine, and the growl she responded with was quickly met by a squeezing of his jaws around her throat until he felt the vibrations of her vocal cords against his tongue, seeking to cut off her sounds with a chokehold on his wife.

With his submission hold on Manea, Alastor knew it would only be a matter of time before she was forced to relent and surrender to him or attempt something risky to free herself. It turned out that his violet goddess opted to surrender to him, her body slumping down as her hind legs gave out beneath her, unable to keep up with their struggle. The corners of Alastor's lips curled upward in a triumphant grin as he prepared to throw her to the ground and stake his dominance, but instead he was taken off guard to find Manea falling backwards and pulling him along with her. Although he was heavier than her, the surge of her strength coupled with their momentum and gravity helped tug the dire brute off his paws. He had no chance to try and break free, so instead he rode out the momentum with her, letting their bodies tumble backwards over one another's. All the while, Alastor refused to relinquish his hold on Manea's throat, clinging to her neck as she clutched around the back of his neck.

The pair of wolves tumbled to the hard ground with Manea rolling with their movements so she ended up on top of him—but only for a moment. Alastor's back hit the ground and his giant paws still wrapped around her slender sides clutched tight to her, holding her body to his as he pushed off the ground with all his strength, muscles rippling and core flexing as he pushed into their roll to reverse it one last time. With the last of their momentum, Alastor flipped Manea over and pushed her body down onto the ground, paws leaving her sides to grab ahold of her shoulders and pin her down with a powerful press. His jaws, still locked around her throat, squeezed hard once more with a threatening snarl against her flesh in his mouth, letting her feel the prick of his sharp fangs against her tender skin as he strangled her. He demanded her absolute submission from her, bracing his hind paws from between hers in a strong, stable stance to ensure Manea had nowhere left to roll out from or squirm free. All he needed to do now was wait for her to submit or until he choked her out.

"Alastor Mendacium"