There was a snarl from Saïx at that. A deep, bestial thing that could just as easily have come from the wolf he was fighting. The pain of the bite would have been enough, but with the attempts to pull his arm off it was like a switch had been flipped.

All that rage, all the anger that had been bottled up inside him came flooding out it the light. It was in his eyes, in his blood and it sang to him, even as his teeth sharpened and and his nails became almost like claws, and in the blink of an eye he summoned his sword to his other hand and brought the pommel down squarely on Remus' nose.

There was no more time for patience. If Remus wouldn't let go of his own will, Saïx would make him let go.