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“Who are you?” she demanded answers, not realizing he was pulling her between two buildings.
“I told you, I’m Malcolm Corpseknot the third.”
Realizing she was being led to a shaded alley, Akela opened her lips to scream and he slapped his hand over her mouth.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” the promise was breathed softly into her ear. “Listen to me.” His lips were against her earlobe and his hand sat firmly clamped over her mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to lower my hand. Do not scream.” His eyes met hers, waiting for a grunt, or nod, or some indication of an agreement, but she didn’t comply. “I want to lower my hand, Akela,” he slowly spoke, staring her in the eyes. “Are you going to scream?”
Akela shook her head yes and he chuckled, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.
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