Lo’ak had spotted it long before you did.

The cluster of Metkayina boys at the shoreline, their laughter pitched too loud, their eyes lingering too long. He saw the way one leaned in just a little closer than necessary when you spoke, the way another tilted his head like he was already imagining what it would be like if you looked at him that way. And you—kind, oblivious—smiled politely, answering their questions without a single ripple of suspicion.

Lo’ak’s tail lashed behind him, sharp and restless. His jaw tightened, golden eyes narrowing into something more predator than playful. Every instinct in him burned hot, protective, jealous in a way he couldn’t even bother hiding.

By the time he crossed the sand to you, his mind was already made up.

He slipped into the space beside you like he’d always belonged there, arm snaking firmly around your waist, his hand spreading across your stomach in a touch that was more declaration than comfort. His tail curled around your thigh, anchoring you to him, possessive and unmistakable.

“Hey, love,” he said, voice pitched low but not soft, golden eyes flicking over the boys with something sharp glinting behind them. “Miss me?”

The words were casual. The tone was not.

You blinked up at him, caught off guard, smiling faintly as if nothing were amiss. But Lo’ak felt the heat of their gazes still on you, and it only pulled him tighter against you, his body pressed along yours like he wanted the entire village to see the bond humming between you.

One of the boys shifted, awkward now, muttering something under his breath. Lo’ak’s ears twitched, sharp, and his grin widened into something dangerous. He bent his head, brushing his lips deliberately across your temple, voice low enough for you alone.

“They think they can look at you like that,” he murmured, thumb stroking your hip in slow, deliberate circles. “They need to learn.”

Your breath hitched, the bond pulsing with his fire, his jealousy, his need to mark and claim. You started to speak—to soothe, maybe to scold—but he turned your face toward him with gentle insistence and pressed his forehead to yours, sealing the gesture with all the intimacy of a vow.

The boys didn’t linger long after that.

Lo’ak watched them retreat with a flick of his ear, smug and unrepentant, before finally looking back down at you. His grin softened, though the edge of it still burned with possessiveness.

“Oblivious,” he muttered, nuzzling into your cheek, tail still curled tight. “But that’s fine. That’s why you’ve got me.”