Princess

Chapter 27: Apologize

Ariadne

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice I recognized all too well said behind me, forcing my eyes close in a mix of dread and relief.

The asshole–hereby christened by this name–let go of my wrist immediately, the icy tenor of Damon's voice sending a chill down my spine. I retreated, my back hitting an iron-steel chest only moments before his fingers ran down the length of my arm.

"You alright, princess?" His lips touched the top of my ear. I nodded, refusing to look at him, because I'd do something stupid like slap him. Or kiss him.

Asshole took a step closer to me and in one smooth motion, Damon's arm moved around me and pulled me back. Damon stood firmly between us now and towered over him. Asshole looked pathetic, at least four or five inches shorter than Damon and half his size. If he was smart, he'd walk away now.

Robyn and Bella stood by Dean, Francis, and my brother in petrified silence. Apparently, the band of men who were with Asshole thought better than to challenge Damon Hale and backed away. They tugged relentlessly at Asshole's jacket, trying to get him to back off by whispering desperate warnings but he refused. It looked like the crew recognized Damon.

And so did everyone else in the club, considering everyone stared at him slack jawed and terrified whispers shot through the air. Asshole was either too drunk or too stupid to realize who he was up against himself.

"I don't want any trouble, man," Asshole said, raising his hands in the air. Damon said nothing, calmly staring him down. "If she's your girl, I'll back off but I heard she's rich."

I never understood how silence could be effective, because when I wanted to hurt someone, or if I had something on my mind, I just said it. But Damon? He was silence personified and he was fucking terrifying.

He didn't even have to say a word to make people tremble in their shoes. Around us, a crowd was beginning to form and while some bold eyes were transfixed on Damon, the rest looked down at their feet, too afraid to even let their sight graze him.

"Well if she's not your girl, I'll be taking what's mine," Asshole continued and lunged at me. Damon blocked my body again with his own and Asshole's fist, covered in rings, met his jaw.

I recoiled immediately and stepped up behind Damon to see if he was alright. But Damon barely winced. Wiping a drop of blood off his jaw, he smiled.

Apparently, Asshole had made a disastrous mistake.

Before I could blink, Damon's fist connected with his eye and the singular blow had him on the ground, still not having said a single word. The entire club's attention was on us now, and I hated it. The ring around us had taken a collective step back and we were even more in the center of the commotion. Not a single phone or video camera was raised to record this interaction and I exhaled a sigh of a relief. I walked up behind him and rested a hand on his back.

"Damon, he's not worth this. Please let it go," I whispered against him but he didn't move. He exhaled a ragged breath at my touch but before he could respond, Asshole found his footing and reared his fist at Damon.

The latter effortlessly caught it in one hand, twisted it hard, and pushed him back down to the floor. A lot of cracking, screaming, and gasping followed but through it all, Damon looked horrifyingly calm.

"Apologize," Damon bit out, his voice cold and harsh. The sheer level of acid in his voice made me tremble in my heels.

"It's really not necessary; please let's just go," I pleaded to no avail.

Damon walked closer and pressed his foot down on Asshole's hand, the snap of a bone filling the air.

"Apologize," Damon repeated calmly.