Page 183 of Daughter of the Serpent

And soft - so heartbreakingly soft.Only for her.

Her breath hitched. Her chest seized.

Axel.

There was no time to react. Bjorn’s laugh slithered into her ears like a curse. She turned just in time to see him yank the ax free with a violent twist. Blood sprayed in a burst of mist. Then - his hand was fisting her hair, jerking her head back, forcing her gaze to his.

“Finally,” he said, voice thick with satisfaction. “I have the pleasure of slitting your throat.”

But before she could even blink, the bear at her feet was gone.

Not shifted. Not faded. Just - vanished.

In its place stood Axel.

Towering. Breathless. Bloodied. Beautiful.

His skin was streaked with dirt and blood, muscles tensed beneath torn fabric, his chest rising and falling in sharp, feral bursts. And in his hand - Bjorn. Lifted off the ground like a play thing, Axel’s fingers dug into his throat, knuckles paling.

“Not before I rip yours from your neck.”

The words spilled from his lips like venom, slow and deliberate, each syllable thick with the promise of death. His voice was deeper now - rougher, barely human. It sounded like stone grinding against stone, edged in somethingmorethan rage.

Axel growled, low and thunderous, a sound that slipped in and vibrated in Sylvie’s bones. His stance was unyielding even as blood streamed in steady rivulets down his spine, soaking into the fabric of his pants and dripping onto the stone below.

Her heart stopped, a single beat suspended in time.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

She hadn’t wanted to believe it.

Hadn’t dared to dream it was true.

But it was.

He was the bear.

The protector.

The malicious beast.

The murderer.

The words echoed in her head, instantly making her sick.

Bjorn snarled, though his face was starting to turn red. His boots kicked against the ground, useless. Still, he managed to choke out a bitter laugh.

“You both deserve each other,” he spat, his voice rasping like gravel. “Twisted and unnatural. Cursed! ”

Axel didn’t flinch.

His grip tightened, and a grotesquecrackechoed into the night as Bjorn’s spine bent ever so slightly under the pressure. The man’s eyes bulged.

His mouth gaped in a desperate search for air.

Sylvie could barely watch.

But she couldn't look away.

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