The wolf's anger sobered at Feyre's touch and he calmed from the brink where his own transformation seemed on the verge of becoming reality. His beard seemed a tad bit fuller and his eyes a little more wild. Those clean teeth in his usually handsome smile appeared just a hair deadly.
"That may be so," Andras said slowly with his voice clearly deeper than normal. A wolf in fae clothing. "But I have nothing to give you. I own nothing to offer. He has everything." He spoke lowly even with his timbrous voice now a vibration in his chest.
"You are a High Lady and deserve every flower, every star, every breath of this world. I can't give that to you. I'm just a mutt in love."