Mac raised her eye brow at the sarcastic remark. Good to know she wasn't the only one like that. She crossed her arms over her chest and listened to him explain how he found out about the incident. Her master had been smart in branding her instead of giving her a piece of jewelry with his mark on it. Even a collar she'd dare to take off, but a fucking brand wasn't something she could remove, easily, if at all.
When his eyes changed, Mac had only a second to prepare before he was on her. She gritted her teeth at the sudden pain, and much to the dismay of her better judgment, her fight instincts kicked in and she attempted to strike at him. The attempt, of course, was futile, but she didn't regret it. She never wanted to lose her instinct to fight, no matter she was put through. Even if she actually knew better; Mac would rather lash out subconsciously than let things happen to her without a thought.
She watched his free hand easily snap her buttons, and she growled. This wasn't her shirt, and she didn't appreciate Jack messing it up. Her eyes turned red when Jack's fangs sunk into her, tearing at her throat, and a strangled wolf yelp escaped. She gripped the counter, probably, a bit too harshly, to keep from fighting against him. She didn't fight losing battles, and so long as Jack had self control, she wouldn't die. She held on to that thought, as the pain did something she didn't expect. The initial attack shocked her system, and hurt, but even though the roughness hadn't changed, Mac was responding to it differently, and the whimpering dropped an octave, like an in-denial-moan.