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Summary
"Everything's fine," responded Regulus, but something dangerous flashed in his gray eyes. "James, let me go."
"No."
This word sounded so decisive that even James himself was surprised. He had never said "no" to Regulus. Always compromised, always tried to smooth over rough edges, avoid conflict. But now something primitive, animal, rose in him, drowning out the voice of reason.
"We're leaving," he added, not loosening his grip.
"Listen, buddy," Alexander took a step forward, and his hand landed on Regulus's shoulder in a protective gesture. "Seems like the guy doesn't want to leave with you."
James saw a red haze before his eyes. A stranger's hand on Regulus, a possessive gesture.
"Take your hands off him," he hissed, taking a step toward Alexander. "Now."
"Or what?" Alexander smirked, not removing his hand. "Who are you anyway? His bodyguard?"
"I'm the one who'll smash your face if you don't back off," James's voice turned low and threatening. He felt blood pounding in his temples, his hands clenching into fists. "Last warning."