Brita struggled for a brief moment in Alaric's grasp, but it wasn't a desperate struggle—rather, it was carefully controlled. She didn't want to hurt him. No, she couldn't afford to hurt him.
Her master's orders were clear.
She had to stay close to Alaric Steele.
She had to earn his trust.
She had to discover the secrets of that damnable communication artifact—the so-called Phone.
So, despite the deep disgust bubbling inside her, she kept her expression controlled. She didn't lash out, didn't strike him, didn't let her fingers twitch with the desire to shove him away with all her strength.
Instead—
She played the part.
With a huff and a mock pout, she twisted her body slightly, slipping from his arms with a little more effort than necessary.