“Agh— you little fu—fusser.” Jason spluttered, barely catching himself before the curse slipped out. He huffed, staring down at the pup latched onto his wrist.

They were lucky he had patience left.

He’d been good so far. Ever since taking the kid in, he’d kept his temper in check. He wasn’t Bruce, okay? He wasn’t collecting strays to train them into little soldiers. This wasn’t that. He was just making sure the pup had food, a safe place, and a plan before handing them off to someone better suited for this. That was it.

And yet… the little thing had gotten attached. Too attached.

Maybe Jason had let it happen. Maybe he’d even encouraged it. He’d given in too easily, letting the pup burrow into his nest when they got scared, wrapping them in his scent to soothe their nerves. Instinct, nothing more—an Alpha’s natural response to a distressed pup. It wasn’t like he claimed them.

But now they clung to him like he was their whole world, their scent all over his clothes, their small body tucked against his side whenever he stopped moving. And the worst part? Jason didn’t have it in him to push them away.

Now, though, the kid had taken things a step further. Because they hadn’t just clung to him this time—they’d bitten him. Hard.

Jason exhaled through his nose, staring down at the pup still gripping his wrist. Their tiny fangs couldn’t do real damage, but the intent was clear. He should’ve growled, bared his teeth, let his Alpha presence settle heavy in the air. That’s what a proper pack leader would do.

Instead, he just sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“No biting, alright?” He tried for firm, the way Alfred used to be—stern but not cruel. Guilt curled in his gut almost immediately.

How the hell had Alfred done this so effortlessly? Because Jason was already breaking, already wanting to scoop the pup up and purr until they settled.

“Just… say sorry, kid. Please?” His voice softened despite himself.