#Chapter 330 – Protecting my Own

Sinclair I growl down at the man before me, who is younger than I thought he would be, for one with such power. He has thick black hair and a day’s worth of stubble on his thin cheeks. The man glares up at me with dark, angry eyes and opens his mouth to speak but before he can, I slap him – hard – with an open palm. The man gasps with surprise and pain, his eyes going wide as he stares down at the floor, and I smirk. I doubt this man has been slapped anytime recently, if ever. He has the smug look of someone used to being in charge. But he’s in my house now. “You’ll speak when we tell you to speak,” I growl, and then I turn to the head of my reconnaissance team, who is standing against the wall, his hands on his knees, panting a little. Craig isn’t a small man – to see him so undone by the efforts suggests that this diminutive priest is, indeed, powerful in other ways. “How did you catch him?” I snap. Craig looks up at me and does his best to straighten up. “