Dylan looked up and saw the man charging at him with the knife. His instincts took over, and he caught the attacker's wrist just in time. The knife hovered dangerously close to his stomach, so close he could feel the cold edge grazing his shirt.
Both men locked eyes ferociously. Dylan noticed a distinct scar on the man's brow. He wanted to see the man's face, to unmask the coward who dared to harm Ava, but the struggle for the knife kept him pinned in the moment.
Dylan tightened his grip, and the man's hold on the knife began to lose, his fingers numbing. With a swift twist, he forced the attacker to release the weapon. The blade clattered to the ground.
"Ugh…" the man groaned in pain as Dylan twisted his wrist further.
"Show me your face," Dylan growled through clenched teeth, his hand darting to the mask. His fingers gripped the fabric, yanking it back. But before he could see his face, the man shoved him aside and fled, leaving Dylan holding the ripped mask.
