Eleven

Livia POV 

“Let me go,” My voice rang sharply, edged with anger and desperation. I struggled with him for the last time, trying to get free.

The grip of the drunkard was tightened on my wrist as he laughed, the smell of alcohol heavy in the air.

“Your mouth is sharper than I think,” he mocked. “I like that,” he said with a smirk.

“I will break your fingers if you don’t release me now,” I snapped, twisting my arm with all the strength I could muster, but all to no avail.

He shoved me back against the brick wall. “You are not going anywhere,” he insisted.

My back hit the wall hard, pain shooting up my spine. I fought again, clawing at his arm, trying to knee him away, but he was stronger, heavier, and drunk enough not to feel reason.

I was at that moment confused on what to do as fear was already taking over me.

“Help!” I shouted despite my pride clawing at my throat. 

I started shouting as I called for help, even though by looking around, I knew no one was there to save me at the moment.

“No one is coming,” the drunkard muttered darkly, pinning my shoulders.

I felt the sharp pain, more sharply this time around as I began to feel weak.

A low, lethal growl cut through the air. The one I wasn't expecting.

“You should have thought twice before touching her.” A voice said from behind. A familiar voice but I can't place my hand on the person yet as I was in pain.

The drunkard stiffened. “Who the hell…” he wanted to say, but before he could finish, a powerful hand grabbed him by the collar and yanked him backward with brutal force. 

The drunkard slammed into the opposite wall.

I felt relieved as I fell to the ground, catching my breath.

Then I saw him, the owner of the familiar voice.

Zachary stood there, eyes blazing, his Alpha aura suffocating the narrow alley. His expression was carved from fury.

“I said,” Zachary’s voice trembled with restrained violence, “get away from her.”

The drunkard staggered to his feet and swung clumsily. Zachary caught his fist midair.

“You dare?” Zachary growled.

He twisted the man’s arm. A sickening crack echoed as the drunkard screamed in pain.

I immediately stood frozen, shock widening my eyes. I had not expected Zachary, not here and not tonight.

Zachary punched the man across the jaw. The sound of bone meeting bone echoed.

“Please!” the drunkard begged, blood dripping from his lip as he felt weak.

“Did she beg you?” Zachary roared, striking him again without showing mercy.

“Zachary!” I shouted. “Enough!” My voice is low and crackly.

He stopped instantly at the sound of my voice.

The drunkard collapsed, groaning in pain as Zachary turned sharply toward me, his expression shifting from savage rage to frantic concern within seconds.

I look at him without uttering a word.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, crossing the distance between us. “Did he touch you anywhere else?” he asked with his gaze on me.

“I’m fine,” I said coldly, trying to avoid his gaze.

He ignored my tone and reached for my wrist. 

“Let me see,” he requested, trying to check me out if I hurt any part of my body.

“I said I’m fine.” I snapped, trying to avoid his touch.

His eyes darkened as he examined the angry red marks forming on my skin. “He bruised you.”

“It’s nothing,” I replied, yanking my hand away.

“It’s not nothing!” Zachary snapped. “He had you pinned.”

“And I was handling it,” I shot back, feeling irritated by his presence.

Yes, he saved me, and a part of me felt grateful but that doesn't change the hatred I have for him.

His jaw tightened. “Handling it? He overpowered you.” he lamented, not satisfied by my reply.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” I said angrily.

The words hit him harder than any punch as I watched his expression.

“You didn’t ask, Livia, he could have seriously hurt you.” he said with a faint voice.

“But he didn’t,” I cut in. “Because you wanted to play the hero.” I snapped at him.

“I wasn’t playing anything,” he growled. “I saved you.” 

“And I’m supposed to thank you?” I asked bitterly. “Fall into your arms? Or what?” I asked angrily.

“That’s not what I…”

“Then what do you want, Zachary?” I demanded cutting him short. “Applause? Gratitude?”

“I want you safe!” he replied calmly.

“I don’t need you to keep me safe. I can protect myself,” I replied bitterly.

His voice dropped dangerously low. “Apparently, you do.”

My eyes flashed. “You don’t have to be concerned about me.” I said bluntly.

“Why?” he challenged, stepping closer.

“Because we are not together anymore?” he asked.

“Yes!” I burst out. “Because you made your choice!”

The words hung heavy between us.

“You think it was easy?” Zachary’s voice cracked slightly. “You think walking away from you didn’t destroy me?”

“Don’t,” I whispered sharply. “Don’t start this.” I warned.

“I will start it,” he insisted. “You think I stopped caring? I never did.”

“Stop acting like you care,” I said coldly.

His eyes darkened with pain. “I’m not acting,” he said with a calm voice.

“You have a mate,” I reminded him harshly. “Focus on her and let me be.” 

His silence was answer enough.

I turned away, refusing to let him see the storm in my eyes.

“You are bleeding,” Zachary said suddenly.

I frowned. “What?”

He stepped forward gently and brushed his thumb against my temple. When he pulled back, his fingers were stained with blood.

My breath hitched. I hadn’t felt it.

“He hurt you,” Zachary said, rage simmering again.

“It’s just a scratch,” I said, brushing it off.

“It’s not just anything when it’s you.” he said with concern in his voice and face.

I laughed bitterly. “You don’t get to say things like that.” I reminded him.

“Why?” he asked quietly. “Because you are trying to erase me?”.

“You don’t exist in my world anymore,” I said trying to fight off the tension building up in me.

“Then why are you shaking?” he asked.

“I’m not.” I denied it immediately.

“You are.” he insisted.

“Stop analyzing me!” I snapped.

“I can’t,” he replied fiercely. “Because no matter how cold you act, I will always show up when you are in danger,” he said proudly as if my life depended on him.

“I don’t need you.” I snapped at him.

“Too bad,” he said. “I will still come,” he insisted with a smile.

I glared at him. “You are impossible.”

“I’m not trying to claim you. I’m trying to protect you,” he said.

“I don’t belong to you,” I replied coldly.

“I know,” he said softly. “That’s what makes this harder.”

Silence settled between us again, thick with unspoken history.

“I want to go home now”. I said calmly.

“At least let me walk you home,” Zachary offered as soon as I wanted to take a step from him.