Chapter 29
Safia was beaming as she found Sion. He wrapped his arms around her and twirled her in a circle.
“Caught you my kitten. What happened? Why are you so happy?” Sion asked, his confusion genuine.
“A surprise!” she cheered. “I bought two tickets for us to go to a club this weekend. We’re going to have a lot of fun!” Her enthusiasm suddenly dimmed as a serious look crossed her face. “Wait, do you have a good pair of trousers and a shirt, or should I buy you one?”
Sion shook his head, a soft smile on his face. “Don’t worry. I have something put away for just this kind of occasion. But why did you buy those tickets? They must have cost a fortune. We could have just gone to a pocket-friendly restaurant and had dinner.”
Safia twisted her lips. “That’s what we always do! Once in a while, spending a little more to make ourselves happy is okay.”
“I didn’t want you to ask your dad for money,” Sion said, his voice laced with disapproval.
She took his hands in hers. “After spending so many days with you, I know what kind of guy you are! And why would I ask my father to pay for us? These tickets came from my savings. So, don’t worry, let’s just enjoy tonight. It’s going to be a whole lot of excitement!” She clapped her hands together like a little girl, waving the tickets in front of him.
“If you say so,” Sion conceded, kissing her on the cheek.
By seven in the evening, they stood hand-in-hand in front of a bustling club.
Safia sighed happily, pulling him inside. She was proud that she was finally able to show Sion something new, an experience he couldn't have had otherwise. “Come on, let’s dance!”
Sion, playing the part of the modest, middle-class guy, chuckled. “I don’t know how to dance. You go ahead and dance; I’ll watch you from here.” He sat on a bar stool.
Safia immediately dragged him onto the dance floor. “There isn’t a competition to judge your salsa skills here. Look around; everyone is in their own world. Come on, dance with me!”
Once, clubs were his entire life—drinking, dancing, and partying every weekend, surrounded by booze and wild revelry. But despite having everything, he had always felt a profound emptiness. Ironically, tonight, despite being away from his wealth and privilege, he felt a happiness so immense it filled him completely. Money can’t buy happiness. It comes from being with people you love, a lesson Safia had taught him.
She guided his hands to her waist and began to sway with the music. The club was a chaotic mix of young couples and pulsing bodies, with the smell of alcohol and sweat hanging heavy in the air. “Why don’t we go somewhere else and enjoy ourselves? Some place quiet?” He was no longer a fan of this empty glamour.
Safia laughed loudly. “Isn’t that all we’ve been doing?”
“You dance; I’ll watch you from here. My legs are aching,” he lied, sitting back on a bar stool. He caught the bartender’s attention. “One Yamazaki single malt whiskey, please.”
The bartender looked at him, from his worn shoes to his simple shirt. “Do you even know the price of that bottle? It’s a very expensive whiskey, not for students or first-timers like you. I can get you a tasty cocktail instead.”
Sion waved a thick wad of cash in front of him. “Now?”
The bartender's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Of course, sir. Right away.”
Sion took a slow sip and watched his girlfriend, full of life, dancing on the stage. She looked like a dream, a vision for every man in the room. A dimple appeared on her cheek when she smiled, making her even more beautiful. Dressed in a red gown with her hair flowing down her back, she looked like an angel. He felt a fierce pride, a possessive ache to claim her. She is mine, he wanted to scream to everyone, to show her off like a trophy. There were moments when he wanted to drop the facade and give her everything he was, everything he had.
Safia came over to his table. “Two shots of tequila, please!” she yelled over the music to the bartender.
“Have you ever had that before?” Sion asked, a flash of concern crossing his face.
Safia shook her head. “No, but tonight I’m going to try it. I’m going to be a wild, carefree girl.”
Sion was about to object, but she had already finished the shots, winked at him, and rushed back to the dance floor.
Damn girl! I wonder how long you’ll stay normal after those drinks, Sion thought, deciding to stay sober to keep a close watch on her.
With new found liquid courage, she swayed her hips, her head bobbing to the beat of "Dirty Diana." “Wanna dance?” she asked, waving at him again.
Sion shook his head, and before he could object, she downed two more drinks. “Hey handsome, it wouldn’t look nice if I’m here, drunk and wild, while you just sit there like a teetotaler.”
Little did she know, a teetotaler was the last thing he was. If she knew the real him, she would run. But to keep her safe, he would do anything. Love wasn’t about becoming a purist. Adoration was the unconditional commitment of an imperfect person to perfect himself for his beloved.
“If I get drunk like you, how would I keep a watch on you?” he asked, a smile on his face. But his expression quickly turned serious. A man was dancing close behind her, grinding his hips against hers.
A tsunami of rage rose in Sion’s eyes. He strode through the crowd, his movements quick and powerful. Grabbing the man by his collar, he pulled him away from Safia.
Safia’s eyes were wide with shock, fixed on Sion. “What did you do? Why did you hit him?”
“He was touching you,” Sion’s voice was a low growl, a sound she had never heard before. The carefully constructed mask of 'Guild Wade' had shattered. His knuckles, slick with blood, felt an unfamiliar, savage satisfaction. For a fleeting second, he’d forgotten who he was supposed to be, the facade he had so carefully maintained. He was no longer a shy, struggling student. He was a werewolf, an Alpha whose primal instincts had just taken over. He could feel the eyes of the other patrons on them, but all he saw was Safia’s horrified face.
His wolf, the creature he had kept caged for so long, was now fully awake, its power thrumming just beneath his skin. The air around him seemed to thicken, a palpable wave of raw, untamed authority that sent shivers down Safia's spine. The man on the ground scrambled to his feet and fled, but Sion barely noticed. His entire focus was on Safia.
He stepped toward her, his eyes blazing with an unholy light, a mix of protectiveness and a terrifying, animalistic fury.
She stumbled back, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes fixed on his. It was the first time she had ever looked at him with fear.
“Safia, I—”
“What happened to you Sion? What happened to your eyes? They seem to be changing their color. You are like….you are something different. You look like…a werewolf? Are you…”
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