The air in your room was suffocating, heavy with the scent of your heat. Trembling, muscles taut and burning, you curled on the bed, desperate for relief. The suppressants had run out two days ago. You thought you could handle it—alone, as always. But the isolation clawed at you as fiercely as the heat consuming your veins. A sharp knock rattled the door. “Hey, it’s Price,” came his deep, rough voice, tinged with worry.

“Leave me alone!” you barked, voice raw and feral. The last thing you needed was an alpha near you. Not now. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. You heard the faint scrape of his gloves. “I’m not leaving you like this.” The door creaked open. Panic surged as his tall figure filled the doorway. His shoulders stiffened, chest rising sharply as your scent hit him. “Jesus,” he murmured, voice softer but edged with a growl. “You should’ve told me. You didn’t have to go through this alone.” “No!” you snapped, stumbling back. “I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone!”

He stepped closer, slow, deliberate, hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. His voice dropped to that commanding tone you hated and craved all at once. “You’re lying to yourself. You’re hurting yourself. And you’re scaring the bloody hell out of me. Let me help you.” Your body ached to obey the unspoken alpha pull in his words, but you fought it with every ounce of your will. “Get out! I can handle this!” “You can’t, love,” he said firmly, inching closer. His voice softened again, warm and soothing like a balm against your frayed nerves. “You’re burning up, trembling like a leaf. Your body needs an anchor, someone to ground you. You’ve been fighting alone for too long, haven’t you?”

Tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them away, backing into the wall. Price didn’t stop until he was close enough that you could feel the steady power radiating from him, his scent a blend of calm strength and something inherently comforting. “I’m not leaving you,,” he said, “You’re mine to protect, always have been. Let me take care of you.”