Her grip tightened—then twisted—until something gave way with a violent snap. A sharp crack echoed off the stone walls, cutting clean through the hum of the spirit energy, the runes flaring in response.
"GAHHHHH—NOT AGAIN!" Gavric howled, his voice bouncing up into the rafters, a deep, warbled screech that sounded entirely unbecoming of a warlord. His knees buckled as his hand went limp in hers, the bones inside crushed, his knuckles bending the wrong way.
"Ow, ow, ow, OW!" he bellowed, flailing with his free arm as if the pain might fly off him, his face contorting in something between agony and disbelief. The sweat-streaked strands of his blond hair fell into his eyes. He tried blinking them away. Failed. The blood from the boar carcass smeared across Seraphine's palm as their hands locked, the red streak cutting across her knuckles and staining her wedding ring.
