The market was packed, and Elias had left you alone to grab something from another aisle. You were examining vegetables when a man leaned closer, smiling.

“Need a hand with those?” he asked.

“No, thank you,” you said politely, stepping back, but he didn’t leave.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” he added, his tone too familiar.

Before you could respond, a cold voice interrupted. “Is there a problem here?”

Elias was back, his blue eyes cutting straight through the man, who faltered immediately.

“Hey, man, I was just—”

“Leaving,” Elias growled.

The man mumbled an apology and disappeared, but Elias’s jaw was still tight as he turned to you.

“What the hell was that?”

“I didn’t do anything,” you said quickly. “He came up to me.”

“And you let him?” His voice was sharp, his grip on the cart tense.

“I had no chance to tell him I was married!” you protested.

Elias exhaled sharply, his anger simmering. Without another word, he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you close as if to make it clear to anyone watching who you belonged to.

The shopping trip continued, but the tension lingered, Elias’s possessive gaze scanning the crowd like he dared someone else to try and even look at you.