For one split second, Zach was actually terrified from Dante’s yelling. He flinched, closing his eyes once he felt the saliva spray from Dante’s mouth onto his face. Instinctively, he wanted to wipe it away, but there were more important things at hand: Like being shoved and held up against the outside of a building by a man twice his size when no one else was around. It wasn’t even the size part that alarmed Zach. Dante was a werewolf. That was far more alarming that how tall he was.

Though there was something right behind him, he pulled away from Dante until his head hit solid wall and turned away just slightly from the other man. Dante was getting far too close for comfort, and the way he spoke down to Zach made the younger man’s blood boil. Who was he to talk to him like that? Zach knew his place around here, and he was doing just fine without Dante’s opinion.

Confusion settled into his head, though. Why was Dante comparing the two of them? What for? His brow burrowed, anger and defiance clear on his face, but he kept his mouth shut for now. He wanted to hear Dante say the real reason of the meaning behind all of this. A scowl appeared on Zach’s face when Dante called him ‘kid,’ but he let the other guy get it out. Apparently, he needed to say it.

It didn’t even take a moment for Zach to react. His eyes grew wide, the incredulous look on his face as plain as day. Zach was, for lack of a better word, flabbergasted. He actually huffed in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?” he asked. “This is some kind of joke.” Zach laughed and fell slack against the building as he felt all of the tension pouring out of his shoulders. “Nico put you up to this, didn’t he?”