Theron guided her toward the parking lot, one hand steady at the small of her back, and had barely gotten a single word out of her before the vermin appeared. Julian planted himself directly in their path, blocking the way, with a tight jaw. His face was flushed red, his boyish charm was now replaced with anger. Acheron took immediate offense. Theron’s eyes darkened into pitch, and for the first time in centuries, he felt the urge to tear the boy's head from his shoulders with his bare hands. "Get your hands off my girlfriend," Julian demanded, his voice trembling slightly despite his effort to sound steady. He glared at Theron, stepping closer. "Who the hell do you think you are? What is your actual relationship with her?!" Theron didn't answer. He didn't owe explanations to mortals, least of all this one. He simply stared down at the boy with cold disinterest, his body shifting to shield Rhiannon behind his shoulder. The subtle movement only seemed to enrage Julian further. He
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