The sharp tip of the knife hung just above the soft, smooth skin of a hand. A cold glint flashed along its blade. It was not hard to imagine the terrifying wound that such a sharp edge could leave upon that delicate, fair-skinned hand.
The beautiful female would surely cry. Tears would fall one by one, like little pearls, sliding down those lovely, porcelain cheeks.
Inside the iron cage, the mysterious Black Panther felt a sudden, inexplicable shiver. It stepped gracefully to the edge of the cage, its cold, deep-blue beastly eyes fixed steadily upon the scene.
Chapter 48