George Quach’s face turned cold, "Take him away imdiately."
Benjamin Wilson nodded repeatedly, turning his head to instruct the others, "Bind him securely and take him away. If this little beast dares to bite anyone again, stuff his mouth with cow dung."
A few burly villagers stepped forward with hemp rope.
Hannah interrupted them, "You are not to lay a finger on him."
As she attempted to approach, George hurriedly grasped her, "Hannah, don’t go near him. What if he bites you?"
Hannah struggled to free herself, her porcelain-like face adorned with a smile. She lifted her eyes to et George’s, and said assuredly, "He won’t harm ."
George countered, but Hannah’s eyebrows furrowed as if she had thought of sothing, "At least not now."
George could neither convince her to stay nor did he dare to exert much force.
Summoning all his courage, he took hold of her wrist. The delicate feel of her skin in his palm prevented him from applying any pressure, fearing he might leave a mark on her soft whiteness.
Hannah gently exerted so force and broke free, intending to walk towards Vincent.
However, just as she took a step, her wrist was grasped and pulled into another embrace. The soft, youthful tone above her head spoke with a chilling voice, "Take him away imdiately."
Louis Snyder held Hannah tightly, but his gaze rested on Vincent.
The two locked eyes, one bloodthirsty, the other cold, equally matched.
Seeing Hannah being held by soone else sent Vincent into a rage. His eyes filled with tiny, bloodshot streaks, the veins in his neck bulging, his legs tensing as if ready to charge, "Let Hannah go."
Louis scoffed coldly, his voice dangerously low, "Hannah? You’re not worthy of that na."
Enraged, Vincent tried to surge forward, but the incoming villagers halted his advance.
After struggling for a while, noticing the arm around her waist hadn’t relaxed at all, Hannah let her body go limp and said, "Louis, let go."
The youth didn’t move, only tightening his grasp around her.
He hadn’t held her for such a long ti, encounters like this had only occurred nurous tis within his dreams. Be it innocent ones or seductive ones, she was always a part of them.
Just one look from her was enough to make him lose all his senses.
Lowering his head, he struggled to maintain a smile. As he gazed down on her porcelain-like soft cheeks and saw her rosy lips, his voice grew hoarse, "Sister, don’t go."
Hannah’s expression remained unchanged, but her eyes carried a hint of frost, "I’m saying this for the last ti, let go."
Louis remained motionless, his voice growing softer, "Let you go, so you can go to that madman?"
He was naturally referring to Vincent.
He scrutinized the man, bagged into the corner by villagers, looking haggard and dirtied, half his face stained with blood. Still, his eyes burned brightly, focused solely on one person’s figure.
With just a single glance, he felt a similar aura from the man.
Dominance.
Dominance over Hannah.
He held her tightly, as if craving for her warmth and softness. Ignoring the nacing stare from Vincent, he focused on the woman in his arms, a familiar fragrance filling his nostrils.
George watched, and although he wanted to say sothing, he just clenched his fist, staying silent.
On the other side, several villagers had encircled Vincent, rcilessly striking him with their clubs.
The people around felt uncomfortable watching it.
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