The words are worse than the earlier realization. Rachel can feel the anger bubbling up, not cold, but hot in her belly. Watching Mel walk away from her and wanting so badly to feel the claws at the ends of her fingers, corded muscle rippling under her skin.

"Yes," is a snarl.

She's proven it time and again in the past.

She'd prove it to Mel.

She only loses when she chooses to.