"Let go of me! Where are you taking me?" Circe hissed, her voice low but seething with fury, as he began tugging her towards the door.
Ragnar didn't respond. He didn't acknowledge her words, or even the fact that she was speaking to him. He didn't speak until the bedroom door clicked shut behind them.
"Where else, if not our bedroom?" he said coolly, not bothering to glance back at her as he spoke. He was already dragging her across the hall with determined strides.
Circe dug her heels into the ground, resisting with all her strength. The polished floor offered little grip, but she used every ounce of defiance she had to slow him down.
"Let go of my arm! I'm not going anywhere with you!" she snapped, twisting and jerking her arm in a futile attempt to break free. "Are you daft, or do you have cotton stuffed in your ears? I said let go of my arm!" She knew from their previous fights that his grip was unshakable.
