Pride Collides
Evan's face twisted.
Not irritation.
Not embarrassment.
Rage.
The kind that crawled up from the spine and coiled behind the eyes.
His dark gaze locked onto Julian D'Aurelius as if he wanted to carve his name out of the air.
This bastard.
He's dead.
Underfoot, the shiny stone caught their strained silence - cold, sharp, echoing battles without sound.
Some guards moved ahead without thinking, creating space between Julian and whatever came next.
Evan didn't slow.
He surged forward.
Faster than most could follow, his body darted forward. Through empty space, his hand flew, slicing with a thin whistle trailing behind.
Bang.
A single guard tumbled through the air, tossed like debris in a storm.
A thud echoed as he barely lifted his elbows, then slid backward, smacking hard into a carved column.
A hush broke as breath caught in throats across the room.
