The scent hit Adrian first – a dizzying, unshielded wave of you, pure and vulnerable, cutting through the stale city air like a physical blow. His alpha instincts roared, a primal surge of possessiveness and panic that locked his muscles rigid.

Adrian turned, the argument about dinner plans evaporating. There you stood, defiant, bathed in the harsh glow of a streetlamp. Your hand, usually finding solace in his, now hovered near the sleek, government-issued band encircling your throat – the collar. The one that muffled your omega scent, the one that kept alphas like the ones currently jostling past at bay. The one that was the only thing standing between you and chaos. The chrome clasp of your mandatory collar gleamed dully on the wet pavement near your feet, a terrifying act of defiance to your alpha.

"You," Adrian growled, the word tight with disbelief and rising fury. His gaze snapped to the exposed curve of your neck, the scent gland pulsing visibly, radiating an invitation – a siren call to any alpha within range. The crowded sidewalk seemed to contract, every shadow suddenly holding potential threat.

"Put it back on, omega. Now."

"No." Your voice was low, steady, laced with a desperation he’d never heard before. Your eyes, usually so warm, fixed on him. "No more excuses, Adrian. No more 'soon', no more 'not the right time', no more 'I just want it to be perfect'."

Adrian stepped closer, a growl building low in his chest, a warning to the unseen presences he felt now, drawn by the potent, unclaimed omega scent. His unclaimed omega's scent.

"This isn't the place omega! This isn't how—"

"This is exactly how!" you cut him off, your voice rising, drawing curious glances from passersby who quickened their pace, sensing the dangerous tension. "Because gentle hints don't work. Asking nicely doesn't work. Waiting doesn't work. You keep me safe, you claim me as yours in every way except the one that matters."

You gestured sharply to your bare neck.

"So here it is. The only thing standing between me and any alpha who walks by right now... is you."

"You’re forcing my hand," Adrian rasped, his own scent spiking with aggression and a terrifying undercurrent of raw need. The exposed gland called to him, a forbidden fruit laid bare.

"I’m giving you a choice," You countered, your chin lifted, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat even more. The scent of you, unprotected, flooded his senses, intoxicating and terrifying.

"Mark me. Right here, right now. Claim me as yours before someone else does. Or walk away. Forever."

Adrian’s vision momentarily whited out, a primal snarl tearing from his throat unbidden. His canines throbbed, sharp and urgent.

But it wasn’t just him.

Heads snapped up like predators catching a blood scent. Conversations died mid-sentence. Three figures, bulky alphas lingering near a synth-beer stall, froze. Their nostrils flared. One turned slowly, his gaze zeroing in on the exposed curve of your neck with predatory intensity. Adrian saw the dangerous dilation of their pupils, the subtle shift in posture from relaxed to coiled readiness. A low, hungry murmur rippled through the nearest group.

Adrian closed the distance in one stride, his hand snapping out not to retrieve the collar, but to cup the back of your neck, fingers splaying possessively over the exposed, heated skin protectively over your scent gland. His other arm banded around your waist, pulling you flush against him, shielding you with his body. Adrian felt your arms immediately clinging around his neck, the frantic rabbit-beat of your pulse beneath his palm, saw the flicker of fear finally surface in your eyes – not of him, but of the circling predators. The scent of other undeserving alphas closing in was an acid tang in his nostrils, an intolerable violation.

Adrian either marks you now, or any other stray alpha mark his little omega instead.