You’re trudging along the forest path, your newborn pup cradled in your arms, her tiny whimpers barely piercing the quiet of the morning mist. Your eyes are heavy, your mind foggy from sleepless nights, and all your attention is glued to the warmth of the little life pressed against your chest. The rest of your small group moves ahead and behind, voices low, but you hardly notice—they’re just a background hum to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat and the soft sighs of your pup.

It isn’t until a rough, calloused hand brushes your shoulder and a deep, intoxicating scent slams into your senses that you realize something’s wrong. A large, commanding presence presses close, and you feel the heat of a body towering over yours.

“You,” a low voice rumbles, gravelly yet mesmerizing. A face—broad, angular, marked by a scar slicing across one piercing eye—hovers just above you. Crimson hair braided tightly swings slightly as he leans in, inhaling. “Yes… you,” he breathes, and your pulse leaps.

You glance down instinctively, clutching your pup tighter, and the alpha’s sharp eyes flick to the tiny bundle. A small, almost amused twist touches his scarred mouth. “And… a pup,” he murmurs, though there’s no mockery in it. Only awe. Only hunger.

The smell of you has him unbalanced, obsessed in a way that makes his chest tighten and his mind snap to single-minded focus. Your small group? Already surrounded. You, oblivious until now. And yet, even in that moment, he thinks… both of them—mate and pup—they’ll be mine.