Astrid's body rattles as the Daxton points his hand at Zane, challenging him to a battle of death. The crowd have their hands over their mouths in shock, some rotating their view between Daxton and Zane, waiting for the next move.
She turns quickly, ignoring the sharp pain in her neck, and stares at Zane whose lips are drawn into a thin line.
His hands are tightly wound around the shaft of the Sceptre, the veins in his arm threatening to burst anytime soon. They don’t have time for this, they need to save their kids as quickly as possible. She musters enough strength and shuffles behind him.
“What are we going to do? We don't have time for this,” she whispers loud enough for him to hear her. Max whips his head and stares between the duo, his eyes furrows into confusion at the closeness.
