Phei bent down, and that small movement shattered what was left of Marcus more thoroughly than any storm. His eyes went wide with such absolute horror that for a moment Phei thought the man might destroy his own mind simply trying to flee what he knew was coming.
Marcus tried to shrink back again, useless limbs scraping across the golden surface while his wings twitched in a pitiful mockery of retreat.
Phei extended one finger, and Marcus stared at it.
If terror had a final shape, perhaps it was something this simple: watching a hand come down toward you while every part of your being already knew that nothing you did could stop it. Phei's fingertip touched the center of Marcus's brow; disgust stirred in him, because even this tiny touch felt like more than the bastard deserved.
But the feeling no longer mattered at that moment—
"Cosmic Dragon Slave Mark!"
