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08

ISBERLT. 

His smirks grow broader as he crouches towards my ear, his grasp on my narrows nearly repressing me, and depriving a whimper out of me. "Let's see who will save you from me this time, you fucking whore!" He snarls, his sharpened claws shovelling into my neck, and almost drawing blood. 

"Let me go, you bastard!" I fight to release his grip on me, but of course, my strength comes nowhere near his. 

His hold on me releases, and I cough as I struggle to get on my feet and calm down my breathing. Closing my eyes to steady my racing heart, I raise my gaze to meet his with blaring eyes, only for me to be met by a strike across the face; stinging my skin so badly that I'm sure it's red. 

I gasp as I hold onto the assaulted side of my face, before turning to meet his evil smirk again, and he lifts his brows at me; challenging me to speak up— which is exactly what I did. 

"Did you just raise your hand on me?" I questi

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