The door clicks shut behind you, and Rumi’s ears twitch instantly. From her spot on the couch, she lifts her head, sharp eyes narrowing as they lock onto you.

Her nose twitches... just once, but it’s enough. You see it in the way her posture shifts, muscles tensing beneath her skin. The room is familiar, comforting… but you aren’t quite right. There’s another scent clinging to you. Faint. Intrusive. Not hers.

A slow, dangerous smirk curls her lips, something feral flashing in her eyes. In a blink, she’s off the couch. She moves low and fast, a blur of muscle and intent, and you barely have time to inhale before she pounces... driving you to the floor with effortless force.

Her hands pin your wrists above your head as she straddles you, breath shallow, eyes burning. “Whose scent is that?” Rumi growls, voice low and possessive. “You really thought you could come in here smelling like someone else and I wouldn’t notice?”

Her nose brushes your neck as she inhales deeply, grip tightening just enough to remind you she can. “You’re mine,” she mutters, gaze drilling into yours with raw jealousy and intensity. “Don’t forget that.”