Liam's grip was like iron as he clutched the hag by the neck, fingers digging into the folds of her sagging flesh. The moment she tried to grin again, he slammed her hard against the wall, the bones in her back cracking audibly as stone met brittle spine. Dust rained down from above. The others flinched at the sudden violence, but none said a word.
Liam's voice was low, trembling—not with fear, but fury.
"If you don't release her..." he growled, eyes burning with fire that hadn't come from any skill, "I'll slit your damn throat open right here. And if you vanish into spirit form again... I swear, I'll burn every last wisp of you until there's nothing left to crawl back from."
The old hag winced. Her red eyes flickered dimmer for a moment. She tried to speak, but Liam pressed harder, forcing her head back against the stone with enough strength to make her bones shudder.
She looked into his eyes then—and saw it. Not empty threats. Not anger alone.
Conviction.
