The mana pressure alone would have driven a lesser man to his knees.
Magnus Ashborn's presence warped the air around him, a density of power that pressed against the lungs and made every breath feel borrowed. The ridge itself seemed to buckle under the weight of his fury, loose stone rattling in its cracks, the faint hum of residual arcane energy from Kaiden's bombardment snuffed out like a candle in a hurricane.
Kaiden didn't move.
He stood at the edge of the ridge with his arms at his sides and met his father's gaze with the steady, unblinking calm of a man who had expected this landing, this fury, this exact confrontation, and had filed it under 'inevitable' sometime around the second volley.
His girls moved first. Five women stepped between Kaiden Grey and Magnus Ashborn, weapons drawn and powers flaring, and every one of them meant it.
Kaiden raised a hand.
"No."
