There was no pain to rock her backwards, only force. There was enough of a tear from the man's strike to rip through cloths and pale flesh, enough to allow more pink to quietly fall from her body as a moan tore from her lips. She had stumbled, and he had ran.

Her eyes narrowed and she let out a hiss of breath. She would not let him get away. The Masters all get what they wished.

With a piercing shriek, Daniella raised her weapon and threw it at the retreating man, letting it soar after his shape.

She wouldn't let him leave.