Went to her room where Greyback soon returns

He heard from Voldemort that Rose belonged to him now. Fully and completely. The werewolf's grin was all teeth, a predator's promise of ownership. He found her not in some luxurious chamber, but in a sparse, cold room furnished with only a bed. She was standing by the window, her back to him, a hand resting on the curve of her stomach.

She turned at the sound of the door closing, her green eyes, so famous, so defiant once, now held a flicker of fear and... something else. Anticipation.

"He told you," she said, her voice a bare whisper. It wasn't a question.

Greyback didn't answer with words. He crossed the room in three long strides, his large, calloused hand wrapping around her throat. Not tight enough to ****, but tight enough to claim.

He slammed her against the cold stone wall, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. His other hand tore at the simple robes covering her, ripping the fabric away until her pregnant belly was pressed against the rough stone, her breasts exposed to the chill air.

"Mine," he growled, the sound vibrating through her entire body. His teeth grazed her shoulder, not breaking the skin, but a clear warning. A promise. "Voldemort's plaything is one thing. But this..." he roughly kneaded the flesh of her ass, "...is my territory. You belong to the real superiors in this world. Werewolves."

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