"You rat bastard..."
Nikolai bit the tip of his tongue to avoid exploding in R-Dialect—a violent aura gathered inside his abdomen with each foul word that left Marduke's filthy mouth. When he insulted Zara and Lunaria with his accusations, it was over.
"How dare you deceive our nation, an outside power here to usurp the throne!"
The surroundings instantly became noisy.
Some Djinn who'd patted his shoulders or given him a smile and nod suddenly frowned, gave him dirty looks as they gathered.
'Hypocrites love to gather in places of power.'
But Nikolai wasn't that young rookie caught in headlights anymore.
After becoming the Patriarch of the Volkov clan, he could barely count the number of these pathetic leeches who crossed him.
He stepped forward, protecting Lunaria from the gazes of others, before cracking his neck from side to side and approaching Marduk.
Step by step.
Growing inch by inch.
Then stopped.
Sleek black fur, silky and pure black.
