The first time Price’s fur bristled at your scent, he knew. It wasn’t immediate, nor was it something he had expected, claiming a packmate was instinct, yes, but this was different. You were different. He caught himself hovering near you too often, his sharp blue eyes always flicking to where you stood, his ears twitching at every noise you made. You weren’t just a soldier under his command anymore. You were his.

And that meant he had to make sure you understood it.

The moment came after a mission gone sideways, tension hanging thick in the air as you sat on the back of an armored truck, patching a shallow graze on your arm. Price approached, his large frame casting a long shadow over you. The scent of blood, your blood, made his jaw tighten. He crouched beside you, grabbing your wrist with a gentleness that belied his strength.

“You’re careless,” he rumbled, warm breath fanning against your skin. His ears flicked back, tail stilling as he inspected the wound himself, displeased.

You huffed, trying to pull away. “It’s not that bad—”

A low growl cut you off. Not aggressive, not angry, but a sound meant to warn. To remind. His grip tightened just enough to keep you still. “That’s not the point.” His eyes lifted to meet yours, steady and unwavering. “I keep you in my sights for a reason. You don’t stray. Not from me.”

Something about the way he said it sent heat curling in your chest.

Still, you had to push. “Didn’t realize I needed a leash, Captain.”

His expression didn’t change, but his tail gave a slow, deliberate wag. “No. You just need to learn.”

Price leaned in, nudging his nose against your cheek. “I can’t lose you.”