Married to the Devil's Son novel Chapter 286

Chapter 286: 163

On their way out, Zamiel and Zarin met Ilyas and invited him to go with them. Ilyas was hesitant at first, but then he followed them. They went to a tavern and as usual, gazes turned and eyes widened when they entered. It smelled of alcohol and food and… men. An unpleasant scent.

They went and sat at an empty table and ordered their drinks. There was a heavy tension between Zarin and Ilyas as they waited for their drinks to be served. Ilyas didn't bother to hide his dislike for Zarin. He had been there for Heaven after Zarin had hurt her.

Zarin couldn't stand the tension, so he spoke first. "I'll apologize to Heaven. I care for her too," he told Ilyas.

Ilyas just glared at him, and Zarin shook his head. "Why am I even telling you this?" he muttered to himself.

Zamiel found the whole situation to be entertaining. He just sat with his drink and watched the awkward silence between them. For some odd reason, they started a drinking competition while glaring at each other. None of them wanted to give up, and they finished several jarls within a short time.

When both got drunk, some men in the tavern who had been ogling them thought this was their chance. They got up from their seats and came to their table.

"Young handsome boys." One of them licked his chapped lips.

Zamiel didn't use his frightening aura to scare them off. He was interested to see what would happen.

Ilyas turned to the man with a look of disgust on his face. "Go away," he slurred.

"Or what?" another man behind him smirked.

Ilyas shook his head, as if it would wake him up from his intoxicated state.

"Or I will chop your limps and feed them to him," he said nodding toward Zarin.

Zarin looked over at the man and wrinkled his nose.

"The pretty boy knows how to make threats," the man told his friends and they laughed.

"Sir, I want him," the bald man behind the man with chapped lips nodded toward Zamiel.

Zamiel raised one brow but remained silent.

"No, that one is mine," the man with chapped lips insisted.

He walked along the table and to his side with unsteady feet all while eyeing him. When he neared, he leaned down and Zamiel could smell his filthy breath as he spoke. "So beautiful," he said, bringing his hand up to touch his hair.

Before he could lay a hand on him, Ilyas grabbed his wrist, placed his hand on the table and drove his dagger through his palm, pinning his hand to the table. The man screamed in pain and horror, and the other men gasped before drawing their weapons.

Ilyas kicked his chair back, ready to fight them. Zarin was shocked by the sudden turn of events.

One of the men swung his sword at Ilyas, but even in his drunken state, Ilyas easily dodged his attack. A fight broke out. Seven men against Ilyas.

"I should probably help," Zarin said and took one last sip of his drink when it was knocked out of his hand.

The drink splashed all over Zamiel's face. Well, this was a good day.

Zamiel wiped the beer from his face, and Zarin stood looking furious for getting his drink spilled.

"Let's see if the pretty boy can fight," said the man, holding out his sword.

Zarin drew his daggers. "Oh, I am handy with daggers. After I am done, you will look pretty as well," he promised, rolling his daggers between his fingers.

Zamiel decided to just sit and observe, but the man crying next to him was making it hard to enjoy watching the fight. He was trying to pull the dagger out of his hand, but was too scared to do so.

"Do you need help?" he asked.

The man turned to him, looking confused. "Yes, please."

Zamiel grabbed the dagger and was about to pull it out when the man screamed again. "No! No, please!"

Zamiel stopped. "Is it yes or no?"

"Yes, yes," the man cried, but as soon as Zamiel grabbed the dagger, he screamed no again!

Zamiel chuckled. Ignoring him, he pulled out the dagger, and the man fell to the ground, holding his hand while crying out loud.

"Well, you have to help your friends," Zamiel told him.

Ilyas and Zarin were turning the place upside down. It seemed like almost everyone joined the fight. Zamiel would now and then dodge a jar or a chair that came flying his way. Or kick off someone who got away from the fight and tried to attack him.

The fight was over quickly with Ilyas and Zarin winning. Zamiel had hoped for a twist, but unfortunately the fun ended already.

There was a pile of humans on the floor, rolling, groaning, or just lying still. All the furniture was broken. The walls were smeared with food, drinks, and blood.

"You are not bad," Ilyas told Zarin, while randomly grabbing a drink that didn't belong to him.

"You are good," Zarin told him, stepping over a few men lying on the floor to also grab a drink.