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“No. Thank you. I’m here with friends.” As if I’d have considered it in any situation. He came over as if he was guaranteed a yes. That was always a hard pass for me.
He leaned in closer. “And your beers are running low. Let me buy you one, unless you’d rather we get out of here.”
Eww.
I slid over, trying to get away without pissing him off. I had a feeling he was the type to respond in anger.
“Omegas don’t get a chance to have an alpha like me.” Was this guy drunk too? Or just freaking entitled?
My first instinct was to try to flee, but that would require moving through the crowds, and he’d definitely catch up. The server came over to grab our empty pitcher and stood between the guy and me, allowing me to slip out. And I did, hoping I made the right choice.
“You buying this one?” the server asked the alpha. They were trying to help me. Super double bonus tip for them.
Only their attempt mixed with me not being fast enough meant he caught up quickly. Maybe I should’ve stayed with my friends. I was barely around the corner going toward the bar where I thought I’d be safer, thanks to more staffing, when he grabbed my arm.
I tried to yank it free. I failed.
“There’s no reason for you not to be polite,” he said. “I’m offering you a gift. The correct response is, thank you.”
I tried to pull away again. He held on harder. Why was no one else helping me? My friends, I understood. They probably couldn’t see from the angle and thought the crisis was averted. But the place was crowded, and no one could see what was going down and think it was filled with consent.
One second, the alpha was on me, and the next, Radley was there. He caught the man’s arm by the wrist and twisted it, hard and fast. He moved it around behind the man, and the crack echoed loud enough to cut through the crowd. The alpha cried and fell to the ground.
Shit. Radley broke one of his bones. Great. My neighbor already didn’t like me, and now he was going to get arrested because of me. And it wasn’t like no one noticed what happened. The room went quiet as Radley stood over the alpha.
“Hands off. He’s mine.”
7
RADLEY
The wolf was on the floor holding his arm at a weird angle. Weird for humans, not so much for shifters.
“Hands off. He’s mine.”
Awww, you said it. I’m so happy. My dragon picked the wrong time to celebrate.
I hadn’t planned on saying it, any more than I’d decided to cross the bar and take the man’s wrist. I’d bent it until it snapped, and it was loud enough for everyone in the bar to freeze, some with their drinks halfway to their mouth. But it was more my beast than me. He’d led the charge, and I didn’t blame him.
The room was quiet now the initial shock had worn off. Someone’s glass tipped over and beer ran over the table edge and onto the floor. The wolf shifter swore at me through his teeth and cradling his arm against his chest. I could smell the wolf in him, and he, like his beast, was aggressive. They were the old-world type of alpha who thought of omegas as something to own rather than a mate and partner.
My hand didn’t hurt. No dragon would injure themselves when thumping a wolf, in human or shifter form. A human would have plunged his hand in ice or pretended he wasn’t in pain, but I stood over the guy, daring him to raise a fist at me. He might’ve been an ass, but he knew enough of the human world that his behavior was unacceptable.
Find out his pack and I’ll fly overhead and burn stuff.
Forget it. The flight would find out and I’d be in more trouble.
Thank gods the guy was a shifter though, because otherwise, he and his friends would have called the cops. As a shifter, he’d heal by morning, and I had no sympathy for his pathetic whining.
He caught my eye, and there was an acknowledgment from wolf to dragon that this would go no further. My beast would whip his ass and singe it as an added bonus if he decided to make a fuss.
I made myself face Sheridan and braced for his reaction. I could see it. He’d step back and give me a look, the one people got when they worked out their quiet neighbor—the same one who didn’t attend Stellan’s dinner but poked his head in briefly with an excuse—wasn’t safe after all. And I’d earned it. I’d wrenched a man away from him and broken his bones without thinking about it.
But the expression I was expecting wasn’t there.
He was staring at me with wide eyes, and he was breathing hard, but there was no fear. He moved toward me which was the wrong direction for a man who’d watched me snap someone’s arm.
But his three friends brushed past me and closed in around him, putting a barrier between Sheridan and me. One of them had their hand on his shoulder and was urging him to go with them.