Page 49 of Daughter of the Serpent

“You know they would never allow it.” She shook her head. “You are needed at the temple. Besides, you have your own training to attend to. It is not only I who will have to face the trials when they arrive.”

He sighed, frustration lining his shoulders. “Regardless, youshould be training with your own people, not some foreigner from the north who…”

As if summoned, Axel's haulking frame strode into view, and that odd but increasingly familiar chill tickled the crown of her head.

Despite Haldor beside her, her eyes shamelessly devoured him. His dark hair had been swept up into a knot at the back of his head, and small tendrils were left dancing around the sharp angles of his face, framing those two tempting eyes, piercing even at a distance.

Yet, as he approached, his face seemed strained, one long vein pulsing in his forehead, his lips pinched in a straight line.

“I didn’t know any of the Hazier had survived,” Haldor said, his tone laced with skepticism as his gaze swept over Axel, studying him.

Axel held his stare, his jaw tightening as he tilted his chin up, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“And yet here I am,” he said evenly, his voice laced with quiet defiance. “Perhaps the stories you’ve been told aren’t as reliable as you think.”

Haldor’s eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening. “Or perhaps some stories are better left buried.”

The tension instantly thickened at his sharpness, wrapping around them like a coiled spring. “Tell me, if you are the last of your clan, do you not have better things to do than to interfere in Mardovian business?” His eyes narrowed. “What do you stand to gain by taking her under your wing?”

“You act as if you’re her keeper.” he said, his tone calm yet pointed as he stepped closer, his eyes studying Haldor closely. “The Hazier have a different way. Unlike Mardovians, we protect our own. We don’t so easily toss our children from the cliffside, nor publicly punish young women for pleasure.”

The words struck like flint on steel. A dark flush crept up Haldor’s neck, and his eyes sparked with the first embers of his temper. Sylvie’s heart raced as she stepped forward instinctively, her hand brushing his arm in an attempt to anchor him.

“The temple knows what is right,” Haldor bit out, his voice taut. “We do not question the gods.”

Axel’s lips curved in a faint, sardonic smile. “Only a fool blindly accepts what is given,” he replied, his tone deceptively mild. “A man who is wise, questions everything.”

Haldor stiffened, his fists clenching at his sides. Sylvie’s fingers tightened on his arm. “Haldor,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t.” Her gaze locked on his, pleading silently for restraint, but she knew immediately it was fruitless. Haldor moved to step closer, his fist rising while shaking off her hand, yet before he could act Sylvie stepped between them.

“I’m sure there’s much I can learn from you, Axel,” she said quickly, her voice firm despite her pounding heartbeat. “We should get started.”

Haldor’s eyes darkened as they met hers, a silent warning flashing within their depths. He held her gaze for a moment longer than necessary, the unspoken caution heavy between them.

“I will get you out of this.” He said, his voice low, then rising as he looked at Axel one last time, “I will not tolerate any man who insults the gods, especially not one of his kind.”

A low chuckle reverberated from Axel’s throat. “You mistake me.” He folded his arms over his broad chest. “I do not insult the gods, only those fool enough to claim they know their ways.”

Haldor’s eyes flared. Sylvie stood her ground between them, willing him with her stare to turn away. A moment passed of silence, and Sylvie dared not breathe, before Haldor abruptly turned.

Axel’s gaze followed beyond her to Haldor’s retreating figure, his jaw flexed. The charged atmosphere lingered even after Haldor disappeared from sight, the tension dissipating only slightly as silence reclaimed the space. Sylvie exhaled slowly. She hadn’t seen many hold their own against Haldor, never mind be so quick to get under his skin, yet somehow Axel had managed both within moments.

"Enough distractions," Axel’s voice suddenly cut through the air.His shoulders were rigid when his eyes met hers. “I assume you are well enough to begin your training?”

She nodded. “My healing was remarkably swift, and I have a feeling it is thanks to you.”

“Good.” He responded before turning towards the weapons table a few feet away. “Then we shall begin.”

“There are only a few hours left of daylight.” Sylvie observed, her hand coming to shield her eyes where the sun now lingered.

“Then we will train into the darkness. War does not wait on the sun,” Axel said gruffly. His gaze flicked over the assortment of weapons laid out, his expression unreadable, but there was a hardness to him that made Sylvie’s stomach knot. “If I’m to train you, you’ll have to be ready for anything. Anytime. Anywhere.”

She nodded, as she fastened her hold on her blade, in attempts to prepare herself. A cold shiver raced down her spine as she tightened her grip on the hilt, the weight of it unfamiliar and far too heavy for her trembling hands. The steel felt foreign, awkward, and her fingers slipped slightly as she fought to maintain control of her nerves and suddenly swirling emotions.

She wasn’t prepared for this - not at all.

She didn’t know how to hold a weapon, let alone use one. The thought of combat made her heart pound with dread.

Axel moved toward her and before she could brace herself, his hand shot out. With a single, practiced motion, he knocked the sword clean out of her hand. The weapon clattered to the ground, and Sylvie’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide in shock.