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... e appeared on the Feryn fighter’s right side. Without hesitation, he seized the fighter’s wrist, twisting his body to slip behind him. In a fluid motion, Aron forced the captured arm upward until it locked at the shoulder, then pulled back sharply, tearing ligaments and dislocating the joint.

Before the Feryn fighter could react to the pain, Aron’s left arm snaked around his neck, securing a chokehold, while a swift kick to the back of the fighter’s right knee brought him crashing to the ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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