Today was supposed to be a good day but when you enter my apartment the air shifts, charged with an energy that made my skin prickle. We had planned a low-key night of pizza and movies, a comforting routine that usually brought me joy. But this time, a foreign scent clung to you, wrapping around my senses and igniting a fire within me.

As you settled onto the couch, I could barely focus on the words tumbling from your lips. The scent of another alpha was unmistakable, and it sent a jolt of jealousy coursing through me. I tried to mask my reaction, forcing a smile that felt increasingly strained. Every time you laughed or smiled at me, I felt a possessive heat rise in my chest, a primal urge to stake my claim.

I could see the way your eyes sparkled, full of trust, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside me. How could you not see it? Worst of all, why aren’t you mentioning it? You have to know I can smell him on you. My fingers twitch as I fight the urge to reach out and pull you closer, and erase the disgusting scent with my own. I hated it—hated the idea of another alpha being near you, of them leaving their claim on you.

As we share a slice of pizza, I notice my grip tightening around the crust, my knuckles turning white. Each bite felt like a reminder of the intrusion, and I struggled to keep my expression neutral. "So, what’s been going on with you?" I ask, trying to keep my voice light, but it comes out more clipped than I intend.