YAGA | ✓

THIRTEEN

•••

THE FIRST BLOW LANDED at her temple. Head spinning, she tried to keep herself standing, emitting a harsh bark of laughter at their efforts. If only she could move her hands, then they would be sorry. If only she could move her hands, then they would beg on their knees for mercy.

She'd already decided that all mercy had abandoned her. If they wanted to play dirty, then the game was changed. And in this game, nothing was out of bounds, no rules were there.

All there was was pure destruction.

More punches slammed into her stomach, the glare of a blade in the light of their lanterns glinting in her eyes. Pressing against her bearings, Yaga hissed as spit landed on her face. She soon recognised the source as a vaguely familiar man, though she couldn't name him, she'd seen him around the village.

Teeth bared, she lunged forward, struggling in vain. This wouldn't be like the first capture, when she'd stood helpless. Tonight, she would fight, strong and stubborn and proud, with her head held high. Tonight, she was a warrior, nothing else.

No longer Yaga Izeva, no longer the tailor's girl, but also no longer their villain, the witch.

No, she wouldn't be anyone that they thought they knew.

She trashed, howling and kicking and screaming as blurry faces appeared in spots of her vision. Unconsciousness washed over her reluctantly with the staggering force of each hit that smashed against her bones. The tragedy was almost funny, how weak and unstable she was.

It was becoming clearer with every passing moment that she was nothing without her power. Not that she'd ever been anything but nothing - no, that too, was evident. With a choked sob, she let herself be slammed against the half-frozen ground.

"You're not gonna stop, are you?" she croaked out, licking her cracked lips. "You're going to hit it until it breaks, and then some more?"

Their ringleader stepped forward, face darkened with a grim expression. Dimitri's eyes were hollow as he spoke, "Hit it till it breaks, Yaga? No. You broke yourself. You were born broken. You have been broken for all eternity."

This time, her rage overpowered her, and she jumped from the floor with a mighty roar that turned Dimitri's tanned face an ugly ashen colour.

Though her hands were tied, before arms could grab her, she leaned below his face, breathing heavily into the furs covering his chest. Swiftly, just as he tensed in confusion, she brought her head up in a sharp arc, hard. Dimitri growled, clutching his broken nose, the smell of blood filling the air.

"You are not untouchable. You are not unbreakable." Yaga smirked in icy satisfaction. "Now? Who is next to challenge me? I was merciful to him. You will not be as lucky to crawl away with a mere broken nose."

"How about your spine? Hear. It. Snap." Her foot stomped on the ground, snapping a twig. "Like. That."

As though lost in her words, no-one touched her.

"So? Would you like it?" she circled them as one by one they clicked into motion.

Another man, a fairly young man a decade or so older than Yaga, was the first to speak.

"Who are you?"

"Who am I?" Yaga's lips drew apart in a bitter grin. "Shouldn't all of you be asking yourself that? You think of yourselves as Kingmakers, but do you know what you breed?