"We can all sense each other, like a tug at the pit of our hearts." Curiosity moved Victor, and he lifted a gentle hand to hover, but not yet touch, Silver's jaw. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to see her newest creation, that's all. She's never made another man before."
A low, nervous growl rose in Silver’s throat as Victor’s hand moved towards him: like a dog with its ears flattened and teeth bared, afraid but ready to bite. It wasn’t a sound he’d known himself capable of. He found himself disliking the involuntary nature of it. It might have sounded threatening to a human, but his own ears could pick up the fear behind it.
But he didn’t move. The old freeze response that had kept him alive so many times before kicked in again: it would have been foolish, he thought, to snap at someone when he had no idea what they were capable of, or if their word could be trusted when they promised not to hurt him. Silver only stood there, tense and angry, a muscle in his jaw jumping like it was taking all of his self-control not to either run or lunge for Victor’s throat.
“She didn’t create me, thank you,” he snapped, “she turned me. It wasn’t even on purpose. If you don’t mind,” And now he slapped Victor’s hand away, “I’m not interested in joining the Llamia social club.”