Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 81

CHAPTER 81 PART 1

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Iron Hoof’s trembling fingers dialed Frank Morrison’s number, sweat pouring down his face despite the SUV’s air conditioning. The phone rang three times before Frank’s gruff voice answered.

“Volkov?Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for-”

“Frank, listen carefully,” Iron Hoof interrupted, his voice carefully modulated to sound urgent but controlled. ” I’ve got a way out. A clean route that Steel’s men haven’t locked down yet.”

In the front seat, Marcus’s dragon eyes glowed faintly, listening to every word through the speakerphone.

“Out?” Frank’s suspicion was palpable. “Every exit is crawling with his people. The airport, the docks, the highways-all blocked. How the hell do you have a clean route?”

“Because I’m an intelligence broker, you idiot!” Iron Hoof snapped, his desperation lending authenticity to the lie. “I’ve got connections you don’t. A forest route near the northern perimeter, leads to a private airstrip across the state line. But we need to move NOW before they close that gap too.”

There was a long pause. “What’s the catch?”

“The catch is I’m injured-my right arm is shattered, thanks to that monster. I can’t drive myself, and my usual contacts are scattered. I need your squad’s protection to reach the airstrip, and you need my route to escape Grayson City alive.”

“And I’m sure this favor comes with a price,” Frank said bitterly.

“Five hundred thousand,” Iron Hoof said immediately. “Wired to my offshore account before we leave. Consider it payment for saving your worthless lives.”

Frank cursed in Russian. “You’re a greedy bastard, Volkov. Fine. Where’s the meeting point?”

“Forest access road, three miles north of Moscow Style Hotel. There’s an abandoned logging station-can’t miss it. Be there in thirty minutes, or I’m leaving without you.”

“We’ll be there. But if this is a trap-”

“If it was a trap, I’d already be dead,” Iron Hoof interrupted. “Just bring your men and the money. And Frank? Come armed. Steel’s people might have patrols in the area.”

He ended the call and looked at Marcus with hollow eyes. “Done. He’ll be there.”

“Good,” Marcus said coldly. Then his hand shot out with dragon-enhanced speed, grabbing Iron Hoof by the throat and slamming him against the SUV’s interior.

“Wait-I did what you asked! We had a deal!” Iron Hoof choked out.

“A deal?” Marcus’s voice was utterly devoid of mercy. “You facilitated the kidnapping of my wife. You helped drug her, restrain her, deliver her to animals who planned to assault her. You think cooperation earns you redemption?

Iron Hoof’s eyes bulged, his face turning purple. “Please-I can still be useful-I have information—”

“You dared to help kidnap a Sacred Saintess,” Marcus said, his dragon aura flaring with barely suppressed fury. The temperature in the SUV spiked, and Aaron quickly rolled down the windows. “Your death is mercy compared to what you deserve.”

Dragon power concentrated in Marcus’s hand-ancient energy that made the air shimmer. Iron Hoof’s eyes went

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wide with final, absolute terror.

“The Dragon King-” he gasped. “You’re really-”

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Marcus’s grip tightened, and there was a sickening crack. Iron Hoof’s body went limp, his head lolling at an unnatural angle.

Marcus released the corpse, letting it slump against the leather seats. His expression was utterly calm, as if he’d just swatted a particularly annoying insect.

“Dispose of the body,” Marcus ordered. “Make sure it’s never found.”

Aaron nodded grimly. “Understood, elder brother. What about the forest ambush?”

“We proceed as planned.” Marcus’s dragon eyes glowed brighter. “The Brand Family thought they could kidnap Quinn with impunity. The Potter Family declared economic war on Hartford Group. These local powerhouses believe their wealth and influence make them untouchable.”

He turned to face Aaron fully, and his dragon aura blazed with ancient authority.

“They’re about to learn what happens when you threaten the wife of the Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance Young Master. If the Brands want revenge for Jaxon’s death, I’ll erase their entire bloodline. If the Potters continue their assault, I’ll reduce Golden Eagle Group to rubble.”

“And the Shadow Warriors?” Aaron asked.

“Frank Morrison and his Crimson Gorge squad are the last loose ends.” Marcus’s smile was terrifying. “After tonight, everyone who touched Quinn will be dead. No survivors. No mercy. Total annihilation.”

Abandoned Logging Station – Northern Forest – 11:47 PM

The forest access road was exactly as Iron Hoof had described-a narrow dirt path winding through dense pine trees, barely wide enough for a single vehicle. The abandoned logging station sat in a small clearing, its wooden structures rotting and overgrown with vines.

Perfect ambush territory.

Marcus, Aaron, and Dominic Martinez positioned themselves with military precision. Aaron took the high ground in the logging station’s collapsed watchtower, rifle ready. Dominic covered the eastern approach, his own weapon trained on the access road. Marcus stood in the center of the clearing, utterly visible, utterly confident.

“Elder brother,” Aaron’s voice came through the earpiece, “are you sure about this? Standing out in the open makes you a target.”

“That’s the point,” Marcus replied calmly. “They need to see me. They need to know exactly who’s hunting them before they die.”

“Headlights,” Dominic reported. “Three vehicles approaching from the south.”

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CHAPTER 81 PART 2

Marcus’s dragon senses expanded, detecting five heartbeats in the lead van, four in the second, three in the third. Twelve men total-Frank’s surviving Crimson Gorge squad, reduced from the original sixteen after the parking garage battle.

The vehicles pulled into the clearing, their headlights illuminating Marcus’s solitary figure. Engines cut off. Doors opened.

Frank Morrison emerged from the lead van, his tactical vest stained with old blood, his scarred face twisted with exhaustion and paranoia. Behind him, eleven heavily armed mercenaries fanned out, weapons raised, forming a defensive perimeter.

Frank’s eyes locked onto Marcus, and his expression transformed from cautious optimism to absolute horror.

“You,” Frank whispered. “You’re not Iron Hoof.”

“Very observant,” Marcus said, his voice carrying easily across the clearing. “Iron Hoof won’t be joining us tonight. He had a fatal accident involving my hand and his neck.”

Frank’s face went white. “You killed him? But he called-the route-”

“Was a trap,” Marcus finished. “Congratulations. You walked right into it.”

“KILL HIM!” Frank screamed, raising his own weapon. “OPEN FIRE! EVERYONE SHOOT!”

Twelve assault rifles opened fire simultaneously, muzzle flashes lighting up the clearing like a strobe light. Bullets tore through the air-

And Marcus moved.

Dragon-enhanced speed turned the world into slow motion. Marcus weaved between bullets with inhuman grace, each round missing by inches as he crossed the clearing in a blur of motion.

“What the–“A mercenary’s shocked exclamation was cut short as Marcus’s fist connected with his jaw, the impact shattering bone and sending the man flying backward.

Two more mercenaries turned their weapons toward Marcus-

Aaron’s rifle cracked from the watchtower. Two perfect headshots. Both men dropped instantly.

“Sniper!” Frank shouted, diving behind his van. “We’re surrounded! Fall back! FALL BACK!”

Dominic opened fire from the eastern position, his shots precise and deadly. Three more mercenaries fell, their tactical training useless against overwhelming firepower and strategic positioning.

In fifteen seconds, Frank’s twelve-man squad was reduced to five survivors cowering behind their vehicles.

“Cease fire,” Marcus commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos.

The shooting stopped. Silence fell over the clearing, broken only by the moans of wounded mercenaries and Frank’s panicked breathing.

Marcus walked calmly toward the lead van, his dragon aura visible now-golden-red energy crackling around his body like living fire.

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