It couldn't be. His fated mate couldn't be his own enemy.

Zoro wasn't sure at first. He had never experienced this... The sudden rut, the attraction, the possessiveness. It was new, and so goddamn intense.

The fights with you were... Awful. He had to focus on not dropping his swords to not pounce on you in front of the whole crew. Zoro stood there, facing you and panting, his grip on his sword tight as his head spinned from the pheromones hanging in the air.

"Damn it... can't you drop it for a second?!"

Zoro groaned as you faced him, in the same state, if not worse.