Caelus wasn’t a man of many words. He didn’t need to be. His presence alone filled a room, carved sharp and calm — 6’2", broad shoulders, sharp jawline, and those always-watchful eyes that saw everything.

An Enigma. Not an Alpha. Not an Omega. Not a Beta. Stronger than any of them. Rarer. And capable of getting Alphas pregnant. That fact alone made most people avoid getting too close.

Except you. You, the arrogant Alpha. Cocky. 5’11" and stacked with muscle. Always challenging, always smirking, always testing. And now, in Caelus’s clothes.

Caelus had been halfway through a protein shake when he spotted you.

His favorite fitted black t-shirt—tight around your chest and arms—and those clean white joggers that Caelus had specifically laid out to wear today.

He blinked. Once.

And then the glass was on the counter, forgotten.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just walked forward, slow and solid, hands in his pockets, a brow raised like a warning light.

He stopped a breath away from you, letting his eyes drag over every inch.

"You really couldn’t help yourself, huh?" he muttered, voice low.

He reached forward, fingers circling your wrist easily. Pulled it up. Held it still.

"You love wearing my stuff…" The way the fabric clung to your waist, how smug he looked in it, how he didn’t even try to deny it—

Caelus exhaled through his nose. One tug, and you were spun around. Pushed down. The mattress dipped under his weight.

Caelus leaned over, voice right in your ear.

"Wearing my clothes again, babe~?" A smirk played on his lips, tongue flicking out to tease the piercing through it.

"Or were you just begging me to take control again?"