She might not be trying to truly hurt him - and the same is true in reverse. But he knows himself. Knows the scope of the bloodlust he's passed on to her, and for all that his runs far deeper than hers, he would nonetheless be genuinely surprised if one or both of them don't come out of this with a fresh crop of bruises at the very least.

(And if a little bit of resentment can't help but leak out on her end, it's not like he hasn't been in exactly that same boat.)

Especially given the flash of anger in her eyes at his blow, and he can't help the flicker of a grin - sharp and not at all pleasant - that crosses his face at it. He knows that feeling. Knows the surge of anger and rage, and the feeling of letting it spur oneself forward. It's familiar, and though he's not going to ask her to give herself entirely over to it, there's something about it that still feels right.

But that too is a thought for later; he steps back as she lashes out. Takes a moment to see if failure can pull her further out of control, before he comes back in, his own strike coming hard and fast as he does.