He threw his head back, as a pair of diamond-covered, elongated, pointed canines appeared.
His head dipped, hands flashed, holding the creature still, and then, in a flash, the tips sank into the twisted temples of thesachem.
Another burst and a concentrated blast of white-hot energy arced into the air.
From Mak’s tipped teeth to the assassin’s head, it flashed through it like lightning, collapsing its warped skull into an implosion of atoms and ash.
It disappeared into cinders and embers that rained down on the buckler, while the remains of its charred body tumbled to the ground.
In seconds, it was over.
Saba blinked in shock, staring up at Mak, hovering in the skies, hissafinbillowing like a silver cloud.
He whirled mid-air, and the temporary domed shield fell away as theŠarfloated back down to the surface.
The second he touched down, he turned to her, his diamond teeth retracting as he raked his gaze over her face to see if she was still standing.
Given his ire not long ago, the level of concern on his face was disconcerting.
Saba shook, shivered, unable to erase the image of what she’d just witnessed from her mind, confirming his infamy.
He was a soul venator, with the ability to hunt and absorb souls into himself.
For years, rumors abounded of the Sauvage family’s prowess, yet to see it in action was something altogether different.
She swayed on her legs, rocked to her core.
Mak’s fellow guards descended in perfect formation, their faces emotionless as they scanned the room for further threats.
His blood brother, Kaal, nodded to the rest of the Signet and Sauvage sentinels, who withdrew to the edges of the wedding ceremony.
Mak stood motionless, his jaw clenched, eyes burning with fury as he stared at the charred remnants of the assassin on the once-pristine floor.
He reached out, and Kaal withdrew an object from his robes, handing theŠarwhat appeared to be a bottle of white liquid.
Mak swigged its contents, then strode to the edge of the deck in front of all the guests and spat it into a cluster of bushes.
‘Hell!’
He grunted as he wiped his mouth with his hand. ‘Always so freakin’ foul.’
He prowled back to Saba’s side, hissafinbillowing, his face hardened with such menace that no one dared titter, make a comment, or even mutter.
His feat had just sealed his reputation as one of the flotilla’s most deadly killers, yet his nonchalance showed he gave zerofokksabout what anyone thought.
Beside him, Saba trembled, but she pressed her lips together to maintain control.
The luminary, also shaken, eyes blinking in shock, dithered, his hands frozen in mid-motion over the sacred epistle of vows.
A rush of strongmen cleared the debris in seconds as the guests witnessed the scene, mouths agape.
Beyond, a soft breeze blew over the stunning lake.
Her heart pounded, blood roaring in her ears, still unbelieving that this charade was even happening.
In moments, it was as if the attack had never happened.
‘Continue,’ Mak commanded in a growl that cut through the lingering whispers and murmurs.
