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“OUCH!”
Scowling, Poppy rubs her backside (which had taken the full brunt of being dropped on the hard, cold rock floor) and whips around to glare at the tall, muscular man standing over her in the semi-darkness.
“Bryce!” She snaps furiously, “there are other, less theatrical ways of getting a girl’s attention. Besides, I told you, I’m already married. Get out of the way.”
She scrambles to her feet and makes to go past him, but he moves and blocks her path. Poppy, who isn’t in the mood for games, swears in Romanian and throws a punch at him, but Bryce easily blocks it. Taking firm hold of her arms, he pushes her back against the rock wall (they seem to be in some sort of cave; the enclosed space makes Poppy feel uncharacteristically claustrophobic) and roughly presses his lips against hers. His forcefulness knocks the wind out of her momentarily – although in honesty, surprise probably has more to do with her lack of a struggle than anything else.
This isn’t Bryce. Bryce wouldn’t do something like this... he’s far too gentlemanly, too kind and considerate and careful. He isn’t the type of person to kidnap a girl and, and –
Poppy refocuses her attention on moving Bryce’s hands away from certain, sensitive parts of her anatomy, just as panic begins to set in. Desperately, she reaches out for her magic and almost screams with frustration when she finds it just beyond her reach. Divinity usually steps in on occasions such as these when she needs it frantically, but it does sometimes fail. It is, after all, uncontrollable and unpredictable, even at the best of times. Physical violence won’t work against Bryce – as a warrior, he’s far stronger than she is. Only one thing for it. Wrenching her face away from his, Poppy yells out at the top of her voice, relying on volume and the dull echo of the cave to carry her plea to where help, hopefully, would be listening.
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