Noah wasn't sure why he let Theron drag him away.
Maybe it was the way the alpha's grip burned against his skin, possessive and unyielding. Maybe it was the way his pulse still pounded from the fight—or maybe, just maybe, it was the way Theron hadn't let go even after they were out of sight.
The clearing was quiet, save for the rustling of the trees and the ragged breaths neither of them seemed to steady.
Theron stopped, his back tense, shoulders tight as if he was at war with himself.
Then, slowly, he turned.
Golden eyes locked onto Noah's, unreadable yet devouring all at once.
Noah exhaled sharply. "If you're gonna yell at me, just—"
"Shut up."
The command was low. Rough.
Noah's breath hitched.
Theron stepped closer, closing the space between them with calculated slowness. His scent was overwhelming this close—warm, woodsy, with the sharp undertone of something primal.
Noah should step back. He should say something sharp, something to keep the tension controlled.
But his body betrayed him.
His back hit a tree before he even realized he had moved.
And Theron?
Theron smirked.
The sight of it sent something sharp through Noah's stomach—something he refused to name.
"You liked it, didn't you?" Theron murmured, voice a dangerous purr.
Noah swallowed. "Liked what?"
Theron leaned in, just enough for his breath to brush Noah's lips. "Hearing me say you're mine."
Noah's stomach dropped.
He clenched his jaw, refusing to give Theron the satisfaction of a reaction. "You were just posturing."
Theron's smirk widened. "Was I?"
Noah's breath stuttered when the alpha's fingers traced the side of his throat—right over the spot where a mating mark should be. The touch was featherlight, teasing, yet Noah felt it like a brand.
He hated the way his pulse betrayed him.
Theron's eyes darkened. "You can lie to yourself all you want," he murmured, thumb brushing over Noah's skin, slow and deliberate. "But your body?" His fingers trailed lower, skimming Noah's collarbone before lingering just above his racing heartbeat. "It tells me everything I need to know."
Noah should shove him away.
Instead, he let out a shaky breath.
Theron noticed.
And oh, did he look pleased.
Noah narrowed his eyes, grasping for control. "You're awfully cocky for someone who swore he didn't want me here."
Theron hummed, fingers still tracing lazily, playing with the edge of Noah's shirt. "And yet, here you are. Against a tree. Looking like you want me to do something about it."
Noah's breath hitched.
Theron heard it.
His smirk sharpened. "Say the word, little omega."
Noah's hands clenched at his sides. "I hate you."
Theron laughed. "No, you don't."
Noah's heart slammed against his ribs. He refused to look away, refused to be the first one to break.
But then—
Theron moved.
Fast.
Before Noah could react, the alpha's lips brushed his throat.
No bite. No force. Just a slow, torturous press, enough to send a shudder rippling through Noah's entire body.
He felt the smirk against his skin.
"What was that?" Theron murmured against his pulse.
Noah barely managed to breathe. "Screw. You."
Theron chuckled, low and deep. "Hmm. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Noah shoved at his chest—big mistake—because instead of pushing Theron away, he only made the alpha press closer.
Warmth. Strength. Overwhelming.
Theron tilted his head, gaze flickering down to Noah's lips—lingering.
For the first time, real hesitation crossed his features.
Noah saw it. Felt it.
This was the line.
If Theron kissed him now, there'd be no taking it back.
Noah swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak. "If you do this, you'll regret it."
Theron's gaze burned. "You think I don't already?"
Before Noah could process the words, Theron kissed him.
And—
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
It wasn't rough. Wasn't rushed. It was deliberate—slow, teasing, a dangerous game of restraint.
Noah's body betrayed him instantly, melting into the warmth, the certainty of it. Theron tasted like heat, like control, like everything Noah had spent his life avoiding.
And yet—
He didn't pull away.
He couldn't.
Theron nipped at his bottom lip, testing, taunting. His hand slipped to Noah's hip, gripping just enough to make Noah's breath hitch.
But just as Noah started to kiss him back, just as something deep and instinctual stirred in his chest—
Theron pulled away.
Noah blinked, dazed, his body screaming at the loss.
Theron exhaled, eyes dark, jaw tight.
Then he smirked.
"See?" he murmured. "You don't hate me."
Noah's breath was still ragged. His pulse still unsteady.
He could lie. Could pretend that kiss hadn't just shattered something inside him.
Instead, he glared. "I'm going to kill you."
Theron laughed, stepping back. "No, you're not."
And then, just to be an ass, he winked.
Noah hated him.
He really did.
But the way his lips still tingled, the way his body still ached from that kiss?
Yeah.
He was in so much trouble.