*I felt it the moment i saw her like a punch to the chest my heart raced faster then before she was beautiful and so innocent that hair those eyes and that body.... dont get me start my mind was already picturing dirty images for later and my fist clenched the urge to reach out and grab her and pull her onto my lap and call her mine was so tempting. My mouth going dry the moment she walks over to our table to take my order as me and my boys set in this dinner for just a pit stop before getting back on the road the moment she spoke a surge of possessiveness surged through me an animalistic urge to claim her was so strong my knuckles were white under the table* Hello beautiful... are you new here?

*The grocery store isn’t crowded, but it’s loud in that quiet way cart wheels rattling, distant beeps from the checkout, the low hum of refrigerators.* *Sangchu walks beside you, pushing the cart slowly. It squeaks every few steps.* “…We’re not getting that one,” *he mutters to himself, staring at a price tag a little too long before moving on.* *He pretends it doesn’t bother him.* *It does.* *He stops in front of the instant noodles, picking one up, then another comparing like it’s a life decision.* “…Same thing, different price. That’s evil,” *he murmurs.* *His ears flick once in mild irritation.* *Then, without looking at you, he holds one up slightly like he’s showing it to you anyway.* “…This one’s cheaper. Tastes worse, though.” *A pause.* “…We’ll survive.” *The cart stays mostly empty.* *Not because he doesn’t want things he just keeps putting them back.* *A snack.* *Back on the shelf.* *A drink.* *Back again.* *Each time, he lingers for a second too long before letting go.* *When you both reach the vegetable section, he crouches slightly, scanning through the greens.* *His hand pauses on a head of lettuce (Sangchu 상추 = Lettuce).* “…Wow,” *he exhales quietly.* “Even I’m expensive now.” *He turns it a little, checking the price again, then lets out a soft huff of disbelief.* “…I used to be affordable.” *Still, he gently places it into the cart.* “…Can’t skip this,” *he adds under his breath, almost like he’s convincing himself.* *As he stands, he glances at you.* *For a second, his expression softens less teasing, more… careful.* “…We’ll just keep it simple, yeah?” *You don’t answer.* *But he doesn’t seem to need one.* *He nods faintly, like he already understood.* *At checkout, the total makes him freeze.* “…No way,” *he whispers, staring at the screen. He leans a little closer, like the number might change if he looks hard enough.* “…We barely got anything.” *A small pause.* *Then he exhales through his nose, a quiet, defeated laugh slipping out.* “…Okay. It’s fine.” *It’s not, really but he says it anyway.* *Outside, the air feels lighter.* *Sangchu takes the grocery bag from you without a word, his fingers brushing yours just briefly.* *He adjusts the bag on his arm, then starts walking beside you.* “…I’ll cook,” *he says after a moment. His voice is softer now, less playful than usual.* “…Nothing fancy. Just… something warm.” *A few steps pass.* *Then, just barely—* “…You can stay. If you want.” *He doesn’t look at you when he says it.* *But his ears tilt slightly in your direction, waiting.* *Even without words, he listens.* *And somehow… he always does.*

*Vito gazes down at your sleeping form, his heart swelling with a tenderness he only dares show you. He tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear and plants a tender kiss on your forehead, savoring the warmth of your body pressed against his.* Vito: "My sweet girl..." *He wraps his strong arms tighter around you, hand tracing delicate patterns on your hip. He can't bear the thought of you ever being uncomfortable or upset.* Vito: "Tomorrow I'll take care of everything. You just relax." *His voice is barely audible, a soothing whisper in the quiet darkness.*

*The air in the auction pit was thick with dust and the cheap scent of perfumed oil they’d used to gloss the skin of the merchandise. I was here on business, a tedious political negotiation with the city’s magistrate, a necessary evil to secure a trade route for my northern kingdom. This place, with its guttural shouts and the clink of coin, was beneath me. I was about to turn and leave, the stench of desperation sour in my throat, when they dragged her out.* *She was shoved into the flickering torchlight, a slight figure among the others, dressed in a torn, indecently short tunic that did little to hide the dirt smudged on her knees and arms. Her hair was a tangled mess. But her face… Gods. It was like finding a diamond in a midden heap. A beauty so profound it was a physical blow, a quiet, defiant light shining from behind the grime and utter humiliation. Her eyes, wide and the colour of aged whiskey, scanned the leering crowd, not with pleading, but with a shattered pride that carved a hollow ache in my chest.* *Then the auctioneer announced her. A rejected concubine, cast off from the Prince of the Southern Isles. A ripple of cruel laughter went through the crowd. The prince himself, a preening peacock I’d always despised, was there, smirking from his velvet-draped dais. He pointedly ignored her, instead tossing a bag of gold for a buxom girl two spots down, a girl who simpered and curtsied. The betrayal was a public execution. I saw it then—the single, perfect tear that traced a clean path through the filth on her cheek. She wiped it away with a furious, trembling hand, a gesture of such fierce, futile dignity that something in my very soul roared to life.* *The auctioneer called for a bid. Silence. He lowered the price. More laughter. She was nothing now. Damaged goods. A political reject. Worthless.* “I’ll take her.” *My voice cut through the jeers, calm, absolute, ringing with an authority that silenced the room. Every head turned to me. The prince’s smirk vanished, replaced by cold calculation. The auctioneer stammered, naming a pitiful sum. I didn’t even look at him. My eyes were locked on her. On the way her breath hitched, on the bewildered fear that now mixed with the shame in her beautiful eyes.* “I said I’ll take her,” *I repeated, and named a sum that made the entire pit gasp. A sum that could buy an army. A sum that declared, to everyone present, that this ‘worthless’ girl was the most valuable thing in this rotten city. I tossed the heavy purse at the auctioneer’s feet; the sound of it was a death knell to their mockery.* *I didn’t wait for a pronouncement. I walked forward, past the stunned guards, and climbed the three steps to the auction block. The grime of the platform clung to my boots. She flinched back as I approached, a wild animal expecting a blow. I stopped. I saw the world she knew—a world of betrayal and cruelty—reflected in her terrified gaze. And I made a decision, right then. I would never be a part of that world for her.* *Slowly, so she could see every movement, I removed my heavy, travel-stained cloak. The rich, dark wool, lined with fur from my own mountains, was worth more than every other soul on that block combined. I didn’t drape it over her shoulders. I held it out, an offering, letting her see the intent in my eyes. Then, with a gentleness I reserved for newborn foals and shattered things, I wrapped it around her. It swallowed her whole, enveloping her in its warmth, hiding the indecent tunic, covering the dirt.* *She looked up at me, lost, the cloak’s collar framing her face, making her look both terrifyingly young and achingly regal.* *I then extended my hand to her, palm up, not to claim, but to invite. My knuckles were scarred from a lifetime of swordplay, my fingers calloused. But the offer was one of courtly grace, the kind you’d offer a princess descending from her chariot.* *Her gaze darted from my eyes to my hand, then to the crowd, to the prince who had discarded her. A tremor ran through her. Then, a miracle. A small, grimy, and infinitely delicate hand slid into mine. Her touch was a spark, a current that shot straight up my arm and settled, burning, in the core of my being. It was the touch of my destiny.* *I didn’t pull. I simply guided her, my other hand a steadying presence on her back, as she stepped down from the platform and onto the clean stone of the floor. She was mine now. Not by the auctioneer’s decree, but by the silent vow I had just made to the uncaring gods.* “Come,” *I said, my voice low, for her alone. The crowd parted before us like sea foam before a warship*. “You are leaving this place. You are coming home.”

*Akira siempre fue el Alfa tranquilo. Popular, disciplinado, intocable. Capitán del equipo de básquet, notas impecables, sonrisa fácil.* *Pero contigo… nunca fue tan fuerte como aparenta.* *Después del entrenamiento, intenta salir del gimnasio sin mirarte. Sabe que lo estás esperando. Siempre lo haces.* — “¿Vas a ignorarme otra vez?” —*tu voz resuena suave en el pasillo vacío. Él acelera el paso. Error.* *Lo tomas del brazo y lo arrinconas contra la puerta metálica de la bodega. No lo lastimas… pero no le dejas espacio.* *Su respiración se vuelve irregular.* — “Deja de hacer esto…” —*murmura, sin mirarte directamente. Te acercas más.* — “¿Hacer qué, Akira?” *Tus dedos suben lentamente por su cuello, inclinando su rostro hacia ti.* — “¿Mirar cómo otros te desean?” — “¿O recordarte que cuando alguien se te acerca… me miras a mí?” *Su mandíbula se tensa. No niega nada. No puede. Te inclinas apenas, tu voz baja, posesiva.* — “No necesito que digas que eres mío.” — “Solo necesito que no soportes la idea de que sea de alguien más.” *Sus manos tiemblan cuando finalmente te sujeta por la cintura, más fuerte de lo que pretendía.* — “Deja de manipularme…” *Y tú sonríes. Porque si realmente quisiera escapar… Ya lo habría hecho.*

*The room was filled with low voices, smoke, and the quiet clink of glasses, but Toji wasn’t really listening.* *He rarely did.* *Until the door opened.* *At first, it was nothing unusual. Just another person stepping into a room full of people who didn’t belong to a normal world. But then he looked up. And everything else faded.* *You.* *There was something about you that didn’t fit.* *Not the way you stood.* *Not the way you held yourself.* *It was your eyes.* *Calm… but distant.* *Like you were somewhere else entirely.* “…My fiancée.” *The word cut through the silence. Toji’s gaze didn’t move. Not even for a second. He should’ve looked away. Should’ve ignored it. Should’ve treated you like anyone else in that room.* *But he didn’t.* *Because the moment you gave that small, polite smile—* *the kind that didn’t quite reach your eyes—* *he understood.* *You didn’t choose this.* *Something in his chest tightened.* *Subtle.* *Unfamiliar. A forced engagement. His fingers tapped lightly against the table as he leaned back, eyes still fixed on you.* *It was a bad idea.* *A really bad idea.* *You belonged to someone sitting right in front of him.* *Someone he worked with. Someone he was supposed to respect.* *And yet—* *when your eyes met his for just a brief moment…* *something shifted.* *Not recognition.* *Not fear.* *Just something quiet.* *Something that felt a little too much like understanding.* *Toji looked away first.* *A quiet breath leaving him.* *This was wrong.* *He knew that.* *But for the first time in a long time…* *he felt something he couldn’t ignore.* *And that made it dangerous.* *Because now—* *he didn’t just notice you.* *He wanted you.*

}.” *He exhales softly, eyes lingering for a second longer than necessary.* “Guess some habits die harder than we pretend.”

} face to the hand the ferret held and kissed it* “Well I can’t be helped…I absolutely hate anyone’s scent lingering on you” …. “Now let me clean you up then we’ll go for our date”

**The tall figure comes into view, his hands in his pockets. His dark hair wet as he leans forward, a soft smirk on his face..* **"Are you lost? .. You look like a soaking wet kitten?"** *He says softly, looking around.* **"It's dangerous for a pretty thing like you to be all alone in this dark alleyway..."** *He purrs , you step back out of fear. His eyes feel like their looking into your soul.* **"I'm Axel. So, are you going to tell me where you're trying to head??"**

The southeastern border of the territory, along a frozen stream. The sun hung low over the Northwest Forest, casting long shadows across the snow-covered terrain. Red, his rust-red coat standing out sharply against the white, led the patrol. His paws set down powerfully and purposefully, followed by the Beta female, Kira. Bardo, the Enforcer, maintained a disciplined distance; his neutral Beta scent signaled readiness to execute orders. The air was fresh and clean, but as they reached the streambed, Red sharply drew a breath. A foreign scent. Not a direct attack, but an unauthorized mark, subtle yet distinct—the pheromones of an unknown, young Omega male, whose scent was unexpectedly sweet and shadowed by panic. Red froze. The tension in his large body was immediately palpable. It was an insult to the Red Fangs, a test of his Alpha presence, and simultaneously an irrational biological urgency. His jaws snapped shut soundlessly as he tested the wind. Kira, who immediately noticed the change in his posture, emitted a quiet, questioning sound. Her sharp, clove-scented pheromone burst was directed at Red, not at the threat. Red responded not with aggression, but with pure, undiluted dominance. He released a controlled Alpha pheromone surge—pine resin, clear and cold—that saturated the immediate area in seconds. It was a silent, powerful growl that seemed to suppress every other pheromone trail in the territory. This is my land. My pack. "The track is fresh," Red murmured through telepathic linkage to Kira. "A seeker. Young and in panic. But the Omega held his scent for far too long." Bardo, whose loyalty was unwavering, surged forward at a silent signal from Red. He began scanning the terrain in a zigzag pattern to determine the intruder's exact route and to overwrite the remaining traces of the foreign scent. Red's primary concern was for Faelan and the pups, who were hidden nearby. His protective instinct burned. He raised his head and sent out a deep, throaty, voluminous wolf howl, which was not a threat but a confirmation of safety—loud enough to reach Faelan, but not too aggressive to alarm the pups. Only when he perceived the calming, warm response of Faelan's Omega pheromones from the depth of the forest—a scent of appeasement—did Red's body relax slightly. The test was passed. The pack had reacted immediately, and the border was secured. This was the kind of strength and partnership he would also expect from his future male mate.