Daphne stood there, completely frozen, her brain short-circuiting like a faulty spirit formation. What the fuck was happening?
She was a former slave, sure, but her time in the Qi crystal mines involved hauling rocks and breaking boulders, not being manhandled like some tavern wench!
Her crimson face burned hotter than a fire Qi furnace, a mix of two distinct and conflicting emotions—pure, unbridled rage and... something else she refused to acknowledge.
'How the hell did this guy think he could grab her like this?'
Nobody—man, woman, or beast—had ever dared to touch her like that. Sure, she'd had plenty of bastards try to flirt with her in the past, spouting vulgar shit and making inappropriate suggestions.
But the second she glared at them, they folded faster than a cheap fan in a summer storm, sometimes even pissing themselves in sheer terror.
