Page 184 of Daughter of the Serpent

Bjorn - the monster who had once loomed so large in her nightmares - looked small now. Insignificant. A dying man in the hands of something far more powerful than she’d ever understand.

Axel’s biceps flexed like drawn rope, veins bulging beneath blood - slicked skin. His jaw locked so tight it seemed carved from stone, and his eyes - gods, his eyes - burned with something unrecognizable. A storm raged beneath the surface - fury, pain, and something terrifyingly still, like the moment before a predator strikes.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Only that low, rumbling growl curled from his throat, vibrating the air around him like the warning groan of a mountain before it collapses.

“Let him go, Axel!” A voice from behind them barreled out intothe night, and Sylvie turned. Shock overtook her features as Haldor stood at the edge of the forest, sword drawn, face white.

But his presence made no difference. Bjorn thrashed in his grip, nails clawing at Axel’s wrist, drawing blood - but Axel didn’t even flinch.

Not even the forest produced a breath.

His men stood frozen at the tree line, their faces twisted in a mixture of fear and disbelief. The only sound was the pounding of Sylvie’s heart, a war drum inside her own ears.

She swallowed hard, her legs like water beneath her. Her fingers trembled as she reached for Axel - but hesitating.

What if he turned? What if he wasn’t himself?

She forced the thought away and laid her hand on his arm.

It was hot. Burning. Alive with energy.

His head jerked toward her, abrupt and stiff, like an animal interrupted mid - kill. His eyes - those once - familiar eyes - snapped to her face, and she saw it. He wasn’t in full control. The beast stirred just beneath the surface, licking its lips with bloodied teeth, eager to finish what had started.

“Axel,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

She gripped his arm tighter. “Let him go.”

Something flickered.

His eyes widened - just slightly - but it was enough. Enough to know he heard her, still buried in there somewhere.

“He shoulddie.” The words were jagged, dragged from deep in his chest like weighted chains.

“I know,” she whispered, her breath catching. “But I will not have anyone die because of me. Not even him.”

Axel’s eyes flicked toward Haldor, and she could see more and more of him returning. Haldor stood tense and ready just beyond, knuckles tensing white over the hilt of his sword.

“You know he will come for her again.”

Haldor’s jaw tightened. “And when the time comes,” he said, voice like gravel, “I will be ready.”

The air between them held still - thick with unspoken threat, tension so taut it could snap.

Seconds passed like hours.

Then Axel’s grip loosened.

Bjorn collapsed like a sack of stone, gasping and wheezing as blood rushed back into his face. He coughed violently, retching on the dirt as his men finally dared to move. They scurried to his side, dragging him away, wide - eyed and silent.

Haldor was already at Sylvie’s side, his hand a steel trap around her arm, yanking her back from Axel like she might be devoured next.

She stumbled against him, her knees weak, her thoughts unraveling into knots of confusion, heartbreak, disbelief.

“How?” she whispered, barely able to speak. Her throat constricted. The word carried the weight of betrayal, of everything shattering at once.