The thug’s hand came down in a vicious arc toward Elias Beckwood’s face.
But it never landed.
A stronger hand intercepted it mid-air.
The sound of bones grinding echoed sharply as Dante’s fingers locked around the thug’s wrist with merciless force. The man screamed, the cry tearing out of his throat as pain exploded through his arm. Dante twisted slightly—just enough.
Crack.
The wrist bent at an angle it was never meant to.
Before the man could even finish screaming, Dante’s fist shot forward. The punch landed squarely against his jaw with brutal precision. There was a sickening sound—bone colliding with bone—before the thug was flung backward like dead weight, crashing into the dirt with blood spraying from his mouth.
Silence fell for half a second.
Then chaos erupted.
The remain
