Killorn thought a dried leaf had touched his cheek. That was how weak she was. Ophelia was as small as a bunny in his eyes. How could a prey possibly hurt a predator? It was not with her hands, but her gaze.
Ophelia's watery eyes were filled with hatred. She bit on her bottom lip, a scorned expression on her innocent face. She was trembling more than thin branches weighed by winter snow. Her stare was shaky with no resolve, but her hatred for him was clear.
Ophelia abhorred him.
"Do it again."
Killorn bent his face so that it would be easier to hit him. What else could she do? This little wife of his, he thought all she knew how to do was cry and hold onto him tightly. He was surprised that a bunny's paw could be used to harm others. Her mouth was quivering, the hatred evident.
