A gloved hand yanked Guinevere's head up by the hair and punched her clean across the jaw.
Pain lanced along the entire right side of her face in one bright flash, and she felt the bruise forming under her skin before the sound of the hit had even finished traveling through her skull.
The soldier then slammed her flat on the ground.
Beside her, she heard the wet crunch of a second soldier taking Blair down the same way, followed by Blair's strangled cry.
That did it.
Guinevere's blood ran cold. She had been hit before and could take it. But listening to a woman who had made her laugh for the first time in a week take a fist to the face was not a thing her body was willing to tolerate.
The soldier's knees were braced wide, his hands on her shoulders, most of his mass tipped forward. His groin was exactly where she needed it to be.
She went limp under him, eyes fluttering closed.
"You went down quickly, didn't you..." he muttered, letting go of her arms. He pushed himself to a stand, still straddling her.
The second he did, she pulled her knee up through his legs and drove her boot into his balls with all the strength she had.
The sound he made was more animal than human. He hunched over, folding in on himself.
She kicked his kneecaps next, followed by his ankles, and the man fell to the ground, with an 'O' on his face.
Ignoring her screaming ribs, she pushed herself up to straddle him. Just like he'd done to her, she grabbed a fistful of his hair and punched him in the face twice before slamming his head down onto a buried root so hard that his eyes rolled back in his skull and his body went slack.
Guinevere turned towards the second soldier, who was on top of Blair with his head raised, still processing what he'd just seen.
She didn't wait, and tackled him. Stupidly. Without thinking. Something she'd never done before. And by some miracle, he went down too. Probably from pure shock that a tiny girl was lunging at him like she was the most dangerous thing in the forest.
The tackle drove him off Blair, and he hit the ferns with Guinevere on top of him.
The instincts guiding her weren't ones she recognized. But then again, she'd never been 'roughed up' before. Today was full of firsts.
She pulled his head up by his hair and punched him in the jaw hard enough that her hand screamed in agony.
Then she slammed his head down onto the earth and drove her elbow into his nose. Cartilage cracked. Blood sprayed across the ferns in a wide arc. The man grunted, stunned and still conscious.
She stood and kicked him in the ribs. Once. Twice. Three times, each strike landing in the same spot, the kind of methodical violence she'd witnessed male wolves do when asserting their dominance.
For good measure and for the second time in under a minute, her boot found a man's dick.
At some point during that, the man's eyes closed.
She glanced over at Blair, who was on her side in the pine needles, one palm pressed to her mouth.
"Blair. We've got to go now."
Blair nodded, pushing herself up.
Guinevere grabbed a blade from each of the unconscious soldiers' belts, and tossed one to Blair. Blair caught it, then stared down at the weapon in her hand like she had no idea how it got there.
"The quiet girl this morning just punched two dragons in the face."
"Blair."
"You are very much NOT quiet. This explains why my brother likes you."
Guinevere grabbed her wrist. "Stay behind me. Do not lose sight of my back. If I say run, you run, and you do not stop until you find a man with gold eyes."
"Understood."
Blair's jaw was already starting to purple where the soldier had hit her. Her lip was split. But her grip on the blade was steady now.
They moved quickly.
"I've tried mindlinking ten times. Nothing is going through," Blair whispered.
Voices echoed in the trees. They had noticed the two men down. Guinevere motioned for Blair to be silent and froze.
"What?" Blair hissed, loud enough for her voice to carry.
Guinevere saw a shape in the distance, its head turned towards her. Without warning, she shoved Blair into the tree next to them.
Blair stumbled, falling, stunned. She looked down at the spot on her arm where Guinevere had pushed her, then up at Guinevere.
"Apologies," Guinevere whispered, not moving. "The mage sees me and not you. Run."
The mage started closing the distance, lifting a hand in her direction. The air cooled around her in an unnatural way.
"Go now. Do not stop for anything."
"I am not leaving you."
"Blair." Her voice was firm. "They see me already and your window is closing. Find help if you can."
"I am coming back for you. With an army. Do you understand me?"
"Understood. Go."