Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 77

CHAPTER 77 PART 1

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The BMW’s door swung open, and Marcus Steel stepped out into the wreckage of Jaxon Brand’s sanctuary. Shattered glass crunched beneath his feet. His eyes-glowing with golden-red fire that made the air shimmer- scanned the room with predatory precision.

He saw Quinn bound to the chair, blood on her face, terror barely suppressed beneath her cold mask.

And something inside Marcus broke.

Dragon aura exploded from his body in a visible shockwave, a crimson-gold tsunami of ancient power that cracked the marble floors and sent furniture skidding backward. The chandeliers above swayed violently, crystals tinkling like funeral bells.

Jaxon Brand stumbled, falling on his backside, his face a mask of pure terror. “Wait-wait, we can talk about this

“You touched my wife,” Marcus said quietly, each word resonating with inhuman fury. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Outside, Cash Lawson’s voice cut through the chaos: “All units, open fire! Take him down! NOW!”

Forty armed bodyguards converged on the villa from all sides, their weapons raised, fingers on triggers. Elite fighters, military veterans, men who’d killed without hesitation dozens of times.

They didn’t stand a chance.

Marcus moved.

The bodyguards saw a blur of motion, felt the air displaced by impossible speed, and then-

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Three men fell, their necks broken before they could even register movement. Marcus was among them now, his dragon-enhanced strength turning trained killers into broken dolls.

“Shoot him! SHOOT HIM!” Cash screamed, firing his own sidearm desperately.

Bullets flew. Marcus weaved between them like smoke, his dragon senses tracking each projectile’s trajectory before the triggers were even pulled. His hand shot out, grabbed a bodyguard’s rifle, and ripped it from his grasp -barrel and all-bending the weapon into scrap metal.

Then he used it as a club, swinging the twisted metal through the man’s ribs with a sickening crunch.

“What the hell is he?!” one bodyguard shouted, backing away in horror.

“A monster!” another screamed before Marcus’s fist connected with his sternum, caving in his chest cavity and sending him flying backward through a decorative fountain.

Aaron Jackson emerged from the BMW behind Marcus, his own cultivation blazing to life. “Elder brother, I’ll handle the rabble. You get to Quinn.”

“Acknowledged,” Marcus said, his voice carrying that inhuman resonance that made even Aaron’s blood run cold.

Aaron launched himself at a cluster of bodyguards, his Iron Phoenix Rising technique turning his strikes into deadly weapons. But even he-legendary in Grayson City’s underworld-paled in comparison to Marcus’s casual devastation.

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Bodies flew through the air like rag dolls. Blood sprayed across expensive landscaping. Screams of agony echoed through Hibiscus Mansion as the Brand family’s “impenetrable” defenses crumbled like sand castles before a tsunami.

Marcus walked through the carnage without breaking stride, his dragon aura clearing a path of absolute destruction. Any bodyguard foolish enough to engage him died within seconds-necks snapped, spines shattered, skulls crushed with casual, terrifying efficiency.

In ninety seconds, forty elite fighters were reduced to corpses and cripples scattered across the villa grounds.

Marcus stepped back through the shattered windows, glass crunching beneath his feet, his clothes barely rumpled despite the massacre outside. His eyes-still glowing with dragon fire-locked onto Quinn.

“Marcus,” she whispered, her cold facade finally cracking. Tears streamed down her face, though she tried desperately to blink them away, to maintain her icy composure.

He crossed the room in three strides, his fingers touching the specialized restraints binding her wrists. Dragon power flared, and the supposedly indestructible bindings shattered like cheap plastic.

Quinn collapsed forward, and Marcus caught her, pulling her against his chest. Her Saintess power, freed from suppression, exploded outward instinctively-golden light wrapping around them both, responding to his dragon aura in a dance of complementary energies.

Sacred and primordial. Divine and ancient. Two halves of something that transcended human understanding.

“You came for me,” Quinn sobbed against his chest, her cold indifference completely gone, replaced by raw, overwhelming relief. “They said-they said you’d never find me-”

“Always,” Marcus said fiercely, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other wrapped protectively around her waist. “You’re my wife. My Saintess. Nothing in heaven or earth will keep me from you. Nothing.”

His dragon aura wrapped around her like a protective cocoon, warm and comforting despite its terrifying power. Quinn’s sacred energy responded instinctively, intertwining with his in a way that felt ancient, destined, right.

“I was so scared,” she admitted, her voice muffled against his chest. “When he-when Jaxon-”

Marcus’s aura flared with murderous intent so intense that the remaining intact windows cracked. “What did he do to you?”

“He hit me. He… he was going to…” Quinn couldn’t finish the sentence.

She didn’t need to.

“Dominic,” Marcus called out. His subordinate appeared in the doorway, his usually jovial expression replaced by grim professionalism. “Take Quinn to the car. Guard her with your life.”

“Understood, boss.”

“Marcus, no-” Quinn pulled back, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Don’t leave me-”

“I’m not leaving you,” Marcus said gently, cupping her face with both hands. “I’m finishing this. These men tried to destroy what’s mine. They tried to harm a Sacred Saintess. They tried to take you from me.”

His eyes blazed brighter, dragon scales flickering across his cheekbones.

“I’m going to make sure they never threaten anyone again.”

He kissed her forehead tenderly, his dragon aura pulsing with warmth and protection. “Wait in the car. I’ll be

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there soon. I promise.”

Quinn wanted to protest, but something in his eyes-ancient, determined, absolutely certain-made her nod. Dominic helped her to her feet, supporting her weight as he guided her toward the BMW.

She looked back once, seeing Marcus standing amid the wreckage, his silhouette backlit by golden-red fire.

What are you? she wondered, not for the first time. What kind of power is this?

But she already knew the answer in her soul. Her sacred intuition had known from the moment she married him three years ago.

Mine. He’s mine. My destined partner.

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CHAPTER 77 PART 2

The moment Quinn was safely away, Marcus’s expression transformed from gentle protector to something dark and terrifying. He turned toward Jaxon Brand, who’d been cowering behind an overturned sofa, and Cash Lawson, who’d stumbled into the villa clutching a bleeding shoulder.

“Please-“Jaxon scrambled backward, his expensive slacks soaked with his own urine. “Please, we can work something out! Money! I’ll give you money! The Brand family has billions-”

“You think I want your money?” Marcus’s voice was utterly devoid of emotion. “You kidnapped my wife. You planned to assault a Sacred Saintess. You think money makes that forgivable?”

“It was a mistake!” Jaxon wailed, tears streaming down his face. “I was angry! You humiliated me, and I just wanted-”

“Revenge?” Marcus took a step forward, his dragon aura condensing around his fist until it glowed like molten gold. “Is that what you call attempted rape? Revenge?”

Cash Lawson, more calculating than the pathetic heir, tried a different approach. “Steel, listen to me. This goes deeper than you think. We were just following orders-”

“I don’t care.”

“The Shadow Warriors!” Cash blurted desperately. “We’re connected to the Shadow Warriors! Kill us, and you’ll have an international criminal syndicate hunting you-”

“The same Shadow Warriors who tried to kill my wife with drunk drivers?” Marcus’s eyes narrowed. “The same organization that hired Blood Canyon mercenaries to kidnap her?”

Cash’s face went white. “How do you-”

“I know everything, Lawson.” Marcus’s smile was terrifying. “I know you contracted Iron Hoof. I know about Red Canyon. I know every single person involved in this conspiracy.”

“Then you know you can’t kill us!” Cash tried desperately. “We have connections, protection! The Shadow Warriors will-”

“Will what? Die like you’re about to?”

Marcus moved with dragon speed. His hand shot out, grabbed Jaxon Brand by the throat, and lifted him off the ground effortlessly. Jaxon’s feet kicked uselessly, his hands clawing at Marcus’s iron grip.

“You wanted to break my wife,” Marcus said quietly. “You wanted to strip a Sacred Saintess of her dignity, her power, her sacred purity. For what? Your bruised ego?”

“I’m-sorry-” Jaxon choked out, his face turning purple.

“Sorry doesn’t bring back innocence. Sorry doesn’t erase terror.” Marcus’s grip tightened. “But death? Death is justice.”

Dragon power flared. The sound of Jaxon Brand’s neck snapping was sharp and final. Marcus dropped the corpse like garbage, turning his glowing eyes toward Cash Lawson.

“Your turn.”

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