“From now on, we’re friends,” Damian added.

Miguel nodded politely.

“Hello, Damian.”

Damian’s heart nearly burst. Never in his life had he imagined Miguel—the dreaded leader of the Evernight Alliance—would treat him this politely. The whole scene felt unreal.

Heather rolled her eyes and shoved Damian aside.

“Such a fool,” she muttered.

Damian scratched his nose, embarrassed.

Then, with a flick of her hair, Heather flashed a radiant smile and strutted toward Miguel, swaying her hips for extra effect. Clifton, Kieran, and Damian groaned in unison. She was at it again.

And indeed, Heather was hamming it up. Slinging an arm over Miguel’s shoulder, she cooed, “Miguel, I’m Heather. You look like someone who has never even held a girl’s hand. How about I introduce you to a few pretty ladies later, hmm?”

Miguel’s face flared red from his forehead to his neck. He looked utterly flustered.

“Ha-ha!” An uproar of laughter erupted from Clifton, Kieran, and Damian. This time, no one bothered to hold back. Seeing the once-feared monster blush like a bashful schoolboy was too much to handle.

Miguel just stood there, lost and confused, as their laughter echoed through the room.

Heather tried not to laugh. She gave Miguel a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“Ignore them. They’re just a bunch of rude idiots. Stick with me, okay? I’ll keep you safe.”

Miguel stammered, “Th-thank you.”

Heather’s grin widened.

“Good boy!”

The sight was quite funny—she draped over a man twice her age, but it was the man flushing, not her.

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Clifton snapped, “Enough fooling around! We’ve got work to do.” He motioned for Miguel.

“I’m the one calling the shots here. Forget whatever nonsense they’re saying. You follow me, understand?”

Miguel nodded at once.

“Yes.”

“Let’s go.” Clifton gave a satisfied nod and turned to leave.

Miguel gently pulled away from Heather and hurried after Clifton, his every movement precise and obedient.

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