Bella's hand hits the wall so hard that it reverberates through the hallway, even despite its sound swallowing padding. Her muscles ripple across her arm, and her claws tear into the wall as though it were made of paper. She towers over Mynx to the point where she needs to hunch her back to push her face close against the shapeshifter's. Her breath burns inside her chest, her throat, her mouth. It gushes from her in steamy waves that wash over Mynx's face. She feels her lips curl upward, showing teeth. Her golden eyes are stinging, and she doesn't know the cause. No amount of twitching, flinching, shivering, not a squeak or a yelp or anything draws a single note of pleasure into her body. She snorts.

"Let's get one thing perfectly clear," she snarls, "I am [i]not[/i] your toy. I am..."

Her tail thrashes furiously behind her as she drags her hand across the wall to grab a fistful of Mynx's shirt. She lifts her bodily into the air, but there's nothing for her to do with all her strength. No surge of pleasure runs down her spine. No wet relief bursts from her heart. Her fingers tremble around the folds of fabric, and she throws Mynx to the ground. She looms like a colossus in the hall, but her shadow is shaking. It doesn't feel right. Nothing feels right.

"I'm not some weak little pet you can just... I'm! I'M! I'm a [i]fucking[/i] Praetor, you stupid bitch! So don't think for a second you can fuck with me ever again! You don't know shit. You don't... you're never there when it matters, so just... no. No. Don't you dare. Don't you tell me you're sorry. Don't you look at me like that. Where were you when Redana ran away, huh? Where were you when the Empress was punishing me for it? Where were you when I was training for the Games, where were you when they carved me open just for winning them? Where were you, huh?! Nowhere! Useless! You're useless, Mynx!"

Bella heaves with the effort of her vulnerability. Don't fall apart. Don't fall apart. Not here. Not again. The Princess needs a calm servant. She needs control. Poise. Perfection. Bella draws a deep breath through her nose, full of the smells of fear and unease, and pushes it through her teeth. She dusts herself off, setting her skirts, sleeves, and hair into a beautiful dance that seems entirely out of place on her body. 

The moment passes. She turns her head away to hide the sudden blush, and offers out her hand without saying another word.