Page 23 of Daughter of the Serpent

“As pure as the great snows,” Another one of the men whispered, reaching out to part her cloak to reveal her dress beneath. “Unblemished, and untouched…”

“Not for much longer…” Jok snorted, rubbing his chin as his eyes slid over her, quickly pooling with a certain desire.

Sylvie kept from locking her gaze with any of the men, anxiously searching around her. If only she could get someone’s attention, to draw someone closer to the outskirts of the crowd, she may yet escape. Yet no one could see them beyond the trees, and no one would pay them any heed regardless as the swell of the music and ale continued to flow.

Gripping her face with his one hand, Baldr turned her to face him. “It seems this one has a problem with listening to the rules. But, you're listening now, aren't you Serpent’s spawn?” His voice dripped with contempt, “You're not cooped up and safe behind those temple walls, nor under the protection of your guards tonight.”

Squeezing her face tighter, his eyes burrowed into hers in a haze of anger and ale. “Tell me, does anyone else know you're here?”

“Let’s have some fun tonight, Baldr!” One of the others encouraged, getting closer. She quickly recognized him as one of the Hargardsons, a practiced warrior at the temple. His hand came to her cloak, loosening its strings to reveal her dress, her body beneath. “I see no white robes of purity. Maybe the gods have delivered her to us this fine night…”

Baldr clapped his hand away. “She’s a disgusting creature of evil. She deserves not the breath in her lungs - nor even your wretched cock!” He barked.

His sour breath was on her cheek as she fought against his grip.Her heart pounded in her ears, her limbs shaking. She knew she had not the experience or the ability to defeat them - but she knew she had to try. Murmuring a quick prayer to the gods she steeled herself, and in an unexpected burst of courage drew her knee upward in one quick motion. She made swift contact with his groin, sending Baldr whorling backward. A howl bellowed from him, his hands instantly releasing their grip upon her, as he stammered.

Forcing herself to push past the fear that wanted to immobilize her movements, she rushed out from under them.

Yet, she was too late.

The others caught her by her hair, pulling her back in one swift tugging motion. A scream launched from her throat, suppressed by the sounds of the music and the thriving crowd, so close, and yet so far away. Sylvie felt her last surge of hope slipping. Powerful hands overwhelmed her, her body too brittle and thin in their strong hands, hardened by labor. She had no means to get through all four of them on her own, and without a weapon it felt hopeless, not that she would know how to use one anyway. Her heart lurched in her throat. Defeat meeting her eyes - she would be helpless to their demands.

Baldr hobbled back toward her, his hands balled into fists as he regarded himself. “Treacherous bitch! I’ll show you the power of my fist!”

The blow landed hard and swift, cracking her head backward with its force, leaving her breathless. The two men continued to hold her upright as he struck her again, this time in the ribs. Her body bent like a broken twig, swaying limp as he continued. Her eyes shut, her head swaying as she struggled to retain consciousness. Hands groped at her body then, slipping along her waist, encompassing her breasts, ripping the fabric of her dress. She screamed, her body beginning to shake, her hands fists, as she struggled against them - but it was no use, they were too strong, and she was too frail.

One of them stepped closer, a hand lifting the hem of her gown. “Maybe when we’re finished with you, we’ll find your prettyfriend.” His lips were at her ear, his hands moving along her thigh. “I bet you would love to see that, wouldn’t you?”

At the mention of Tara, thunder rippled through her veins, curling menacing and deadly. Within seconds electricity danced along her fingertips, curling along her bones in a possessive caress. Instinctively it lashed out, her fingers splayed with humming power, white and pulsing. Untamed, it shot outward, dispatching a massive ball of explosive energy in all directions. The men flew backward in one mighty pulse of power. Trees snapped and bent at the impact, bushes instantly bursting into flame. Steam wafted from scorched earth, and the ground seemed to groan beneath her feet. Wind, cold and howling carried the sea salt breeze, whipping her tattered gown against her body, her long braid bouncing at her back.

She was pure power.

She was pure energy.

She was pure light.

And nothing would touch that light, ever again.

In one vibrant sweep, the power enveloped her head to toe, and she felt her body suspend. Baldr growled in response, his limbs trembling, eyes bulging as he struggled to get up from the ground.

“You…youdemon!” He cursed. “You will be the death of us all!”

She felt the power rising, building, reaching the edges of her very being, anger filling her up and spilling over with every outward breath.

A voice that was not her own thrummed through her mind.

How dare he try to take what isn’t his.

Raw emotions collided, the breadth of it distinct and overwhelming - sending her senses whorling. She could feel the intensity, the rise of the demand - a thirst for blood that needed to be quenched. Her lungs burned, her heart pounded.

Justice!

Justice!

Justice!

The voice demanded.

Take his head.