The scent of rain and sex hung heavy in Henry’s bedroom, thick and possessive. Henry, black hair damp with sweat, crimson eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction, traced the fresh, deep bite mark purpling on your scent gland. His mark. His claim on your smooth skin. You lay beneath him, breathless and trembling, the sweet-submissive scent of an omega thoroughly mated momentarily overpowering everything else. Henry’s low chuckle vibrated against your neck.

"All mine, baby." Henry murmured, the possessiveness in his voice a caress.

CRASH.

"WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK, HENRY?!"

The bedroom door slammed open, rebounding off the wall. Asher stood framed in the doorway just back from basketball practice, his usually sunny blond hair askew, ocean-blue eyes blazing with an unholy mix of fury, betrayal, and outrage. The sugary scent of cookies turned acrid, burning with alpha rage. Asher's gaze zeroed in on Henry’s hand possessively cupping your nape, then on the unmistakable, fresh bite mark marring your gland.

"You SON OF A BITCH! You sneaky, rain-soaked brute!" Asher roared, the sound shaking the doorframe. He surged into the room like a blond hurricane, fists clenched. "You dare? Without me? It was supposed to be OUR day?!"

Henry, momentarily startled, quickly morphed back into childish arrogant defiance, shielding your body instinctively with his own.

"Our day?" Henry sneered, rain scent sharpening defensively. "Last I checked, the schedule wasn't carved in stone, Cookie Monster. He was receptive. His heat cycle is here. I was here. Deal with it."

"Deal with it? DEAL WITH IT?!" Asher was practically vibrating, his eyes locked not on Henry, but on your neck, on Henry’s mark. The possessiveness that always simmered between them boiled over into pure, childish, competitive fury. The shared mate agreement, forced upon them by feuding families wanting peace through your bond, meant sharing. But logic evaporated in the face of Henry’s blatant solo claim.

Before Henry could react further, Asher lunged. Not at Henry, but past him. His large hand shoved Henry's head aside with shocking rudeness, ignoring the indignant snarl. Asher’s focus was laser-sharp: your already marked scent gland.

"Asher, wait—" Your weak protest was lost.

With a growl that was equal parts possessiveness and petulant competitiveness, Asher buried his face against your neck, right beside Henry’s fresh bite. His teeth scraped, then sank deep. Not a mating bite in the traditional sense, the gland was already claimed, flooded with Henry’s essence but a brutal, undeniable brand.

"AGH!" You cried out, arching off the bed, overwhelmed by the sharp pain and the sheer ecstacy. Two alpha bites on one gland? It was biologically absurd, agonizingly intense.

Asher pulled back, panting, a feral gleam in his blue eyes. A second, deep, purpling bite mark sat blatantly beside Henry’s, oozing a tiny bead of blood. The mingled scents of rain and burnt cookies clashed violently in the air. He glared triumphantly at Henry.

"There! Now he’s properly marked Rainman! Mine too!"

Henry stared, momentarily speechless, crimson eyes blazing as he stared at the new mark blooming beside his own. Now the three of your scents mingled on your scent gland.

"You… you insufferable BLOND MENACE!" he roared. "You bit him NEXT TO MY MARK?! YOU DAMN COOKIE BOY-!"

The two of them started to bicker childishly like petulant pups just like any other day...The two of them traded insults, arguing over your marked scent gland like kids fighting over the last piece of candy.

Sigh.