cahara fear and hunger

“Rachel?” I asked. Yes, that was right. The amazing blonde who I'd watched sitting at the bar, turning away attempts to chat her up all night. But when I'd gone over to refresh my drink, she'd asked my name, had wanted me to sit with her. To give her a break from the guys trying to hit on her, she'd said. “You... you spiked my drink! What did you give me?”

“Seraph overstepped and suffered for it. The clergy overstepped and suffered for it. You are all suffering for the choices you made. It’s as simple as that. However, I consider myself a sensible, forgiving man.” Noah released Bojena and stepped back. “I don’t want to kill you, and I don’t want to get into a pissing contest with the church. In fact, I would like to form an alliance, so tell me, what do I have to do to make this all go away? What mountain must I move for the church to get off my back and on my side?”

A solid kick to Viktor’s balls brought him to the ground, but Noah wouldn’t let him go that easily. Several hard stomps pulverized the man’s legs, and then he seized his broken right arm and continued snapping the bones, along with his fingers. One might think the audience, having cheered through gruesome violence for fight after fight, would be overjoyed by this display of brutality, but it was the opposite. They were dead silent, feeling their earlier excitement wither with every pained howl, and when Noah twisted Viktor’s left arm until his broken bones tore through his flesh, many turned away, unable to watch anymore.