Destiny Enslaved (editing)

Part 27

sorry just a little chapter to wrap up Asariel's point of view-next is a Bjorn POV

Whatever plan she had concocted was scuppered when I noticed aziza suddenly shift her position. My head snapped up to see her one moment calmly stirring the boiling porridge with a reddening hand that I realised was beginning to blister from holding the iron ladle.

Then once Fell had moved into range she sprang up and pivoted on her foot to launch into a blurring lunge swinging the dark metal cutlery at the man's temple.

She had deadly intent in her eyes

A clash of metal rattled my teeth making me grip my head. The three girls in the corner as well as jasmine- releasing the dagger- covered their ears from the terrible onslaught of sound.

I looked back up in a second a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Magna had stepped into the fray. Her sword, drawn, was inches from Fell's head as she held back Aziza's strike. The force with which the ladle had struck the sword made the shining metal hum.

She would have killed him.

Magna switched her footing to push Aziza away from Fell and off balance. But she jumped back in time to avoid the move. Aziza seemed t be dwarfed as she backed up to defend me opposing the 6ft1 Viking- 7inches taller than her.

What was most peculiar was the intrigued and excited expression on Magna's face.

Magna began her approach. Aziza tensed her muscles under her brown tunic ready to retaliate. She was holding her ladle with both hands ready to use it like a mace.

Behind Magna Tori and Fell had retreated stunned for a moment before they began to reach for their weapons.

Bjorn had already taken hold of his axe and made moves to step past Magna his eyes on Aziza with a lust for blood.

Squealing whimpers of terror came from the three girls who began crying.

Jasmine gripped onto the back of my shirt quivering as she bowed to recite the faraj- the prayer before death.

This couldn't go on.

I gripped onto my wounded thumb the pain giving me a surge of anger, mixing with the fearful beat of my heart making me break into fight or flight- fight was the only real option. It was a perfect brew for battle.

The sudden energy propelled me to my feet leaving Jasmine softly whimpering on the floor. I slid in front of Aziza to face the Vikings. My hand was itching to draw the dagger and attack but I waited for Bjorn to make the first move.

My stare was crazed and intense as I battled with my bloodthirst.

But Bjorn immediately stopped when our eyes met. His axe lowered slowly to his side. And they all stared aghast echoing the reaction of the girls from before.

Bjorn's face slowly twisted into an expression of an amalgamation of gaping eyes, knitted brows and a slack jaw.

The others, even the princesses, had a shared reaction of astonishment. I could only guess that Aziza and Jasmine as I no longer heard the soft mumbling of prayer.

But I chose to ignore everyone but Bjorn. My head reared in a challenge. But the tent had fallen yet again into a palpable silence.

I was unreasonably annoyed by it so decided to make my move.

No, I didn't attack.

''Bjorn.'' Saying his name perfectly I broke the chilling silence with my stern and uncompromising tone. I was scared but I was also... thrilled. And I was ashamed for letting that side of me rear its head. I had almost let her loose.

Bjorn shook his head like a dazzled babe. When he said nothing I closed the distance between us to where I could smell his sweet breath. I saw Magna move to aid Bjorn but I pinned her with a look. She lowered her sword.

I returned my gaze to Bjorn's tarnished Aegean eyes darkened by abuse.

Tilted my head trying to read that shocked expression.

I decided his bloodlust had faded to nothing, no longer a threat. I stepped around him and proceeded to walk out of the tent the three Vikings parting in a jolt of fear letting me pass. I felt the burning gaze of Bjorn on my back.

I left the tent and carried on toward the tree line. Till finally, I heard him raise his voice again in order to stop me. ''Girl!''

My nostrils flared with anger and I tensed restraining myself.

Turning on my heel I struck him again with my stare. He shut up flinching slightly.

Then with an expression that would probably sour milk, I enunciated my next word for him to understand.

''Asaroul''