Explain this "Bonding"

His hand went to the other thigh, and he waited for her answer. His damage was clear, and maybe he was getting through to her. Axel narrowed his eyes, and he gnarled, "Tell the truth!" His other hand came crashing down on her other leg, that bone as well threatening to break. The blood running down his face seemed to give him more energy than ever. His eyes were black as coal, and raging madly. Axel looked rather insane, in this form. His voice soft and seductive almost, "Just reveal and you won't lose your walking ability. Don't you want to glide around like you have been for all your life? Just answer the damn question with complete honesty." Axel knew how to torture someone into insanity. If need be, he could resort to breaking each and every bone going down her legs, and then maybe her arms. But how far would he need to go? Axel of course would heal her in the end, but with the look in his eyes, that was not showing. How foolish this woman is. Standing against a Zhefarovich, one that is a trained assassin. How amusing!
 
Apparently pain induced lies weren't all that convincing. Axel wasted no time in near-breaking her other leg, which sent her head into an almost unconscious state of agony. If he wasn't careful (which she wasn't entirely sure he was being), Ylva would miscarry. But Araxfell had battled through trauma before, and his mother was determined to wade through the tide of spasms and form some sort of coherent sentence. Now Axel became quieter, and if Ylva's leg hadn't resembled a licorice wand she would have scrambled back for distance. His damn eyes are laughing at me, her mind informed her uselessly and she batted the thought away like a fly. Just ... just ... she couldn't think of a better lie.

A sick part of Ylva was fascinated with this side of Axel. Ylva was a cold and efficient killer; Axel had become cold, efficient and insane. It wasn't something people generally admired; mostly they would just run. But Ylva could only do one and not the other, and now she was fighting like the devil not to be sucked into the flesh-piercing depths of his eyes that bore into her. She cursed in Danish. Ylva was almost unconscious from the pain by the time she finally relented. "Dead." she said softly with her eyes half closed. "All of them." She did not know what he would do to her, now. Whatever he said, she was not telling him any more.
 
The iron-like grip released, and Axel smirked, "Dead... That's all I wanted to know. I assume that you killed them. How hard was that, Ylva?" Axel stood up straight, and he took out his lighter wand, and waved it over her legs, healing the broken bones and the bruises. The pain would lighten up increasingly, and the baby would be safe. Axel put the wand away, and he shrugged. He ran his fingers through his blonde hair, and he did not bother to heal his own wounds. Axel smirked, "Your being has changed. I am honestly glad that you aren't a simple-minded fool that just joined the Death Eaters to act 'cool' when you are actually a killer." Axel dismissed himself from the room, going upstairs after the dark part of Axel retreated when he went into Athena's room to watch over her playing.
 
Now that the pain was finally abating bit by bit and her eyelids were not fluttering in a bid to stay awake, Ylva had so many things to say. Perhaps, 'Was that really necessary?' (a pointless question). Or maybe 'And you're alright with this?' Hardly. But more pressingly, 'Where on earth are you going, you absolute bastard!?'. For thirty years Ylva had been obsessively careful about who knew her business and who did not; that is, no-one but Baxack. One hint ... a single hint in the corner of her eyes and that damned Zhefarovich and leaped on it and tore it apart like a jaguar. She now knew better than to let the slightest notion go to anyone anymore. I suppose I should just think of this as a learning experience, thought Ylva blandly as she managed to pull herself up to begin a painful leg massage. Never, ever marry a Zhefarovich if you've got secrets to hide. Perhaps her Mor would have warned her of that if she had not killed her.

But now that she was finally, blissfully alone, Ylva slunk back to find her original plan (which incidentally had nothing do with marrying men). That was why it was life changing; all she had ever done was marry countless men, kill them off and slaughter their relatives. It was almost reflexive and machine-like now. But as soon as she was free to do as she wished, losing Araxfell would not hurt half as much. Not when she now knew that she could replace him ... her own little piece of clay, to mold and do as she pleased with. Yes. She wanted more children, and now she knew who to strike in order to get them.

END SCENE​
 
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