Serah's POV
I stood at the entrance of the dungeon, rage burning hot in my chest like fresh blood. The memory of Lydia slapping me in front of the maids still stung on my cheek. She really thought she could disrespect me openly and the only punishment would be a night in this cold cell? Hell no! That was too easy, and merciful.
Before she could even turn fully toward the sound of my footsteps, I moved and sped like a wind through the bars, my fangs were fully extended, claws out. My nails raked across her arms, her shoulders, chest, even deeper that I got angry and made the scratches tear through her fabric and skin. Lydia gasped, trying to fight back, swinging wildly, but I was faster now. Stronger that every time she reached for me, I was already somewhere else, leaving fresh marks on her body.
She stumbled backward, blood welling up in her thin red lines. "Stop!" She yelled.
