Page 30 of Obliterated
He’s here. He’s fucking here.
I swear he makes the room fucking vibrate.
I don’t dare to look at him, even though every inch of me is screaming to. Dying to. To see his face, his stance, the way the whole room bends around him.
To make sure he’s okay… Still in one piece.
When I catch him in my peripheral, closing in, when that brutal, unshakable aura engulfs me, when the sharp tang of Ashleaf smoke and leather and something feral wraps around me… I nearly fucking whimper.He’s fine.
Sami and Tass are with him, but stay back, both finding a spot at the bar to lean on, to watch the show that’s about to unfold.
“Funny. I thought this was a bar. Since when do they let pigs order pints?” Max drawls, voice low and sharp enough to slice through the tension.
He doesn’t just walk; he prowls. Every step deliberate, shoulders loose but coiled, like a predator who knows he doesn’t need to rush. When he stops in front of me, the whole bar leans away without even realizing it, chairs scraping back, whispers dying on tongues.
His presence fills the room the way smoke does, crawling into every corner, stinging the eyes, stealing the godsdamned air.
I want to say I don’t need him to come to my rescue. That I can handle this. That I don’t need a fucking knight, especially not one that bathes himself in blood every chance he gets. But the truth sits heavy in my gut: I’m outnumbered.
And so is he.
The brute chuckles, mean and sharp, ignoring Max. “You got yourself a replacement for your mother, Kieran? Found a new owner to keep you fed?”
Max doesn’t blink. Just cocks his head, slow and deliberate. That’s when I know…They should fucking run.
It hits me; they have no clue who he is. That entire group is new here. Every single person in this city, on this island, knows better than to fuck with Max. Because if you do, he won’t just fuck you right back. He’ll annihilate you.
The brute leans forward, smirking. “Whatcha gonna do, tough guy? Gonna play hero for the teeny-tiny eensie-weensie brat? Or are you just here to swing your dick around?”
Max doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. Not an inch. He just crosses his arms, calm as sin. “Try me. Idareyou.”
That’s all he says. All he needs to say.
The men don’t laugh this time. Knuckles crack. A sword slides free with a flash of steel, another brute rolling his shoulders likehe’s warming up for a fight. The air goes tight, suffocating, the kind that makes you brace for blood.
Then both of Max’s arms lift, slow and deliberate, and the hiss of steel sings as he draws the blades from across his back. He twirls them in a quick circle once, wicked things gleaming under the bar lamps. The sound alone has my skin prickling, has me shivering like a goddamn leaf.
And when his stance settles—feet braced, head tilted, blades ready—it’s like watching the storm itself curl into human shape.
Before it can explode, beforehecan explode, Tass shoves her way in between, palms up like she’s defusing a bomb. “Alright, alright, boys,” she says with that shit-eating grin of hers. “Put the dicks away before someone loses theirs.”
A ripple of uneasy laughter skitters through the bar, more nervous than amused. Sami’s right behind her, not smiling. His dark eyes narrow on the group, frown deep. “She’s right,” he mutters to the group, voice low but carrying. “You don’t want this fight. Trust me.”
For a second, I think it’ll tip anyway. That blood will spray across the counter before anyone can stop it. Max’s shoulders are coiled, his grip white-knuckled on the hilts. I can’t see his face from here, but I know it well enough by now. If they'll push him, it’d be the last thing they’d ever see.
But then the air shifts again. Another silence.
Joyeus.
She sweeps into the bar like she owns it. Because she does. Her blonde hair high on her head, cloak trailing, a waft of perfume clinging to her.
“What’s happening here?” Her sharp voice rings through the bar. “Don’t you all have work to do?”
Just like that, the tension breaks. Chatter seeps back in as the employees scatter, the silence dissolving like nothing happened.Joyeus glides to the brutes, mutters something low, and they straighten. Obedient. One by one, they make for the door.
All but him. The dirty bastard. He takes a half step closer, throws one last look at me, lips curling in a way that makes the hairs on my neck stand on end. My stomach knots, and I hate myself for the way I flinch.
Max doesn’t miss it. He twirls Whisper in his hand once, the blade flashing in the dim light. That’s all it takes. The guy’s smirk falters, seems like part of his infected brain had a smart thought, and then he’s gone, shoved out with the rest.
