Page 34 of Vargan

"Willie, stay back," I warn, but it's too late.

Royce turns, his attention shifting to the boy. "Friend? Is that what he told you? Did your friend tell you how he crushed a man's skull with his bare hands? How he left a woman widowed?" He sneers. "That's what orcs do, kid. They destroy everything they touch."

Willie falters, uncertainty crossing his features. Royce presses his advantage, moving toward him. "Your sister's too stupid to see it, but you're a smart kid. You know what he is."

"Don't talk to him," Savvy says, stepping between Royce and her brother. "Willie, go to the kitchen. Now."

"Better idea," Victor interjects smoothly. "Willie, come with me. The sheriff will want to talk to you about what you know about our fugitive friend here."

That's all it takes. As Victor reaches for Willie's arm, something in me snaps. Not the beast—something deeper, more animalistic. The instinct to protect.

"Don't touch him," I growl, the sound barely human.

Victor freezes, genuine fear flickering across his face. Royce turns back to me, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

"Or what?" he challenges, but his voice wavers.

"Vargan, don't," Savvy pleads, clearly seeing what's coming. "They're baiting you."

I know she's right. I know this is exactly what they want. But as Royce steps toward Willie again, clearly intent on using him as leverage, something in Savvy's expression changes.

"Screw it," she says, her eyes meeting mine across the diner. "Let them have it."

Permission granted, I let go.

The beast rises, not in a red haze of uncontrolled rage, but in cold, calculated fury. I move fast, catching Royce by the throat before he can touch Willie.

"I said," I repeat, lifting him until his feet dangle above the floor, "don't touch him."

Royce claws at my hand, face reddening as his airway constricts. Behind me, I hear Victor dialing his phone, the sound of the door opening as new customers enter—or perhaps exit.

I don't care. All I see is the fear in Willie's eyes, the determination in Savvy's, and the pathetic creature squirming in my grasp.

"Vargan," Savvy's voice cuts through the haze. "Enough. He's not worth it."

I loosen my grip slightly, allowing Royce to drag in a ragged breath. "Touch either of them again," I tell him, voice low enough that only he can hear, "and I'll show you exactly how I killed that man in the alley. Understood?"

He nods frantically, eyes bulging. I release him, and he collapses to the floor, gasping and clutching his throat.

Victor backs toward the door, phone to his ear. "Sheriff? Yes, at the diner. There's a disturbance. An orc just attacked my nephew. Hurry."

I turn to Savvy, knowing our time is measured in minutes now. "Take Willie and go. Get out of town for a few days."

She shakes her head, stubborn to the end. "I'm not running."

"This isn't about the diner anymore," I insist, gripping her shoulders gently. "It's about keeping you both safe. Please."

Willie steps forward, eyes wide but no longer afraid. "We're not leaving you."

The loyalty nearly breaks me. I open my mouth to argue further, but the sound of sirens cuts me off. Through the window, I see the flash of red and blue lights.

"Vargan..." Savvy's voice is tight with emotion. "I can't—"

"I know," I say, releasing her. "It's okay."

The door bursts open, and two sheriff's deputies enter, hands on their holstered weapons. "What's going on here?" one demands, taking in the scene—Royce on the floor, Victor pointing at me, the tension thick in the air.

"That orc assaulted my nephew," Victor says immediately. "Unprovoked attack. We want to press charges."

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