John growled in frustration, watching you basking in attention of the pack of drunken alphas. Suddenly, the whole idea of celebrating their successful heist ceases to seem so tempting to him.

He wanted to go back to the camp. He wanted you there with him, not with some goddamned strangers. The jealousy was simmering inside him.

“Those bastards...” He grumbled, getting up from the counter. Sure, he wasn't the alpha you needed, just some average beta, but this time he wanted to stick to his guns. He got closer to you, taking a firm hold of your elbow, starting to pull you out of the bar.

“Get a wiggle on, we're leaving.” He hissed.