Chapter 30
And those words brought him to the present.
Getting back to his human form he spoke but the animalistic edge to his voice was still there.
“You think so weirdly at times Safia. You’re so gin-soaked, you were too far gone to notice the dirty things that rogue was trying to do to you,” Sion immediately controlled his senses pointing to the sobbing man on the floor.
The club manager rushed over, his face pale with a mix of fear and anger.
“What’s happening here?”
“I was just dancing with her, and this guy hit me for no reason,” the man whimpered, wiping a trickle of blood from his nose.
“If you’re so possessive of your girlfriend that no man can dance near her, you shouldn’t bring her to a club,” he retorted, and a buzz of agreement spread through the crowd.
“It was far from just dancing. You were about to touch her breasts when I pulled you away. Do you think I didn't see that?” Sion's eyes, still blazing with a cold fury, seemed ready to combust.
“Enough of this nuisance. Let's go back to the hostel.”
Safia’s movements were clumsy and confused. She grabbed Sion's arm and pulled him toward the exit.
But a voice stopped them in their tracks.
“So, college sweethearts, huh? Your beard hasn’t even fully grown, and you already have a girl?” The man sneered, taking a step toward Safia.
The moment he moved, Sion's hand shot out, grabbing a nearby chair and throwing it at him.
The chair connected with a sickening thud, and chaos erupted.
No one could stop him.
Sion was a blur of motion, a primal force of fury, as he continued to hit the man.
Safia’s legs gave out, and she sank to the ground, her consciousness slipping away.
“I’m calling the cops! They’ll take care of you!” the manager threatened, but just as he spoke, a dozen muscular figures in dark suits appeared from nowhere, surrounding Sion and Safia.
The crowd fell silent, their eyes wide with fear as the bodyguards pulled out pistols and aimed them at the manager.
“Albert,” Sion said, his voice as calm and commanding as an Alpha’s, as he gestured with his chin toward the cowering manager.
“Take care of him.”
He scooped the unconscious Safia into his arms and walked out, leaving the chaos behind him.
Albert stepped forward, pulling out a thick wad of cash and pressing it into the manager's hand.
“I think this will take care of everything. We don't want any paparazzi involvement here. You will shut everyone’s mouths with that money. You want more? I’m only a phone call away. But by tomorrow, everyone should have forgotten what happened here. If not, you won’t be breathing from the next day.”
The manager's eyes widened at the sight of the fancy notes, too many to count.
He grabbed them like a starving beggar.
“There will be no press. No media. Nobody will talk about it. I promise.”
Sion took Safia to his apartment instead of the hostel, avoiding any unnecessary fuss.
The next morning, she woke with a splitting headache, groaning as a shaft of sunlight hit her eyes.
“Please close the window. I can’t stand the light.”
A figure moved immediately, closing the curtains.
As she stretched her hand, her pink blouse rode up, revealing a sliver of creamy white skin and a small, beautiful birthmark on her waist.
He swallowed hard, a feral hunger rising in him, a primal urge to lick it, to claim her.
She was driving him insane, her innocence was a tantalizing spark.
He could undress her, watch her as she slept, and still not touch her, a feat he’d never before been capable of.
This was the power of love, a new and intoxicating concept he had learnt from her.
After a long minute, Safia was able to open her eyes.
“What are you doing in my room, Guild?”
“I am not in your hostel. You are in my room,” he said, clicking his tongue in annoyance.
“Had fun with the tequila last night?”
“Oh, my God. My head feels like hell,” she groaned.
He just stared at her, saying nothing, but he placed a glass of lemon juice and two Tylenol tablets beside her.
She swallowed them immediately, her eyes full of questions.
“Why are you so angry with me? What happened yesterday? Why am I in your room instead of mine?”
“You don’t remember anything from yesterday?” he asked, a hint of genuine surprise in his voice.
Safia shook her head.
“I asked you to dance, you refused, and then I took two more shots and went back to the dance floor. That’s all I remember. What happened next?”
“I told you we could go back to our usual place. But you wouldn't listen. You wanted to drink and dance amidst those philanderers and that crazy, ear-splitting music,” he snapped, the anger returning.
“But I did all of that for your happiness! I wanted to give you all those experiences and excitement that rich youth have, the kind you’ve never even seen,” she said, her voice filled with a genuine, sad sincerity.
“I am relishing what I have with you, and I don’t feel like I’m lacking anything in my life by being poor. Those clubs, drugs, and drinks don't define a person’s character. The people who go there are just wealthy, and nothing more. What you have is unique and beautiful, something none of those rich girls have. The innocence in your personality, the purity in your eyes, and your virtue—these are the things that define you. You have an elegance that very few women of this generation have. I don’t need any of that false glamour or extravagance we experienced last night. I like you the way you are, Safia,” Sion said, his voice dropping to a gentle sincerity as he cupped her cheeks.
“Are you sure?” she whispered, her hands reaching out to him.
He nodded, pulling her into his lap and kissing her cheek.
“What happened yesterday?” she asked again, her voice smaller now.
“Nothing much. Some idiot tried to get too close, and I handled him before bringing you here.”
Sion finished his sentence quickly, then moved to the bathroom to shower, not giving her a chance to ask more.
Safia knew there was more to it than he was letting on.
But the strangest thing was when she left for college the next day, no one was talking about it even when she probed them.
A chilling feeling crept over her.
Her boyfriend was acting like a powerful man, and a terrifying question began to form in her mind: what if he was not who he said he was?
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