Kelsey POV
I push myself up, my breath hitching as I lift my head from my arm as chaos unfolds all around me. Blood streaks on the pristine altar, a stark scarlet against the wedding's white elegance. Gunshots thunder through the air, jerking my head as I glimpse the man in black storming a gunman.
He collides with brutal force, knocking the rifle skyward. A burst of bullets sprays the air before he disarms and finishes the assailant with a weapon drawn from his waistband—a double tap, precise and final. Pivoting seamlessly, he takes down two more attackers, his movements a violent burst of efficiency.
The officiant lies dead alongside several Vacheron relatives. My gaze lands on Avara amids, the carnage, blood pooling beneath her, its crimson tide spreading across the immaculate floor.
