"Yes, sir!" Hildred and Magnus's voices rang out loudly, almost instinctively, before either of them could realize what they had said. The unexpected response drew a brief moment of silence before they both turned to retreat, as though Nyxander's command had momentarily suppressed the hatred and hostility between them.
"Just wait. I will make you regret this humiliation the moment we get the hell out of here," Malachai muttered bitterly, slowly descending from the air. His wounded shoulder remained motionless, but the resentment burning in his eyes was impossible to hide.
However, before his feet could even touch the ground, Nyxander's calm voice stopped him.
"Who said you were allowed to leave?"
The words were neither loud nor hurried, yet they carried an unmistakable threat. Malachai froze an inch above the ground, as though an invisible force had seized his entire body and denied him the freedom to move.
