Noah was losing himself.
Every second in Theron's presence made it worse.
The bond had been a whisper before, a subtle pull he could ignore if he just focused hard enough. But now?
Now it was a roar. A fire in his veins. A weight in his chest that wouldn't let him breathe without feeling him.
Theron.
His scent. His presence. His goddamn control.
It was driving Noah insane.
And the worst part?
Theron knew it.
He saw it in Noah's eyes. Smelled it in the way his scent fluctuated—hot, needy, desperate.
And the Alpha?
He was reveling in it.
"I can hear your heart racing, omega," Theron murmured, voice dark and rich, filling the space between them.
Noah gritted his teeth, forcing himself still.
He wouldn't give in.
Not yet.
Not when Theron was watching him like this, like he was waiting for the inevitable.
"I told you," Noah said, his voice stronger than he felt. "This doesn't mean anything."
Theron hummed, stepping closer.
Noah's body reacted before his mind could stop it— muscles tensing, breath catching, the bond thrumming like a live wire.
Theron's lips curled.
"Oh, baby," he murmured, voice like silk dragging over Noah's skin. "You can lie to yourself all you want. But your body?"
One step closer.
Theron was all heat, all dominance, all inescapable presence.
"It already knows who owns it."
Noah shuddered.
Because it was true.
He felt it in his bones, in the way his knees weakened, in the way his fingers itched to grab onto Theron's shirt and drag him down.
No.
He wouldn't give in.
Theron must have seen the flicker of defiance, because he chuckled—a deep, mocking sound that sent shivers racing down Noah's spine.
"You're really going to keep fighting me?" Theron asked, tilting his head. "Even after everything?"
Noah's jaw tightened. "I don't belong to you."
The amusement vanished.
Theron's hand shot up, gripping Noah's chin, tilting his face up until they were nose to nose.
His voice was low. Dangerous. Absolute.
"Say that again."
Noah's breath hitched.
The bond tightened. Pulled. Burned.
Theron leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of Noah's ear, his breath hot, heavy, intoxicating.
"You don't belong to me?" he whispered. "Then why do you react like this?"
A sharp nip to his ear—Noah jerked, a choked sound escaping before he could stop it.
Theron smirked.
"Why do you tremble every time I touch you?"
His fingers dragged down Noah's throat, pressing lightly against his racing pulse.
Noah swallowed hard.
"You're imagining things."
"Oh?" Theron's lips brushed against his jaw, teeth scraping just enough to make Noah shake.
"Then why," Theron murmured, "do you smell like you're seconds away from begging?"
Noah snapped.
His hands fisted Theron's collar, yanking him down, crashing their lips together in a kiss that wasn't gentle, wasn't sweet.
It was teeth and desperation. Heat and hunger. A battle neither of them wanted to lose.
Theron growled, pushing forward, pinning Noah against the wall, swallowing every sound he made.
Noah hated how good it felt.
How the fire in his veins roared hotter.
How the bond tightened like a vice, sealing them together, making it impossible to ignore what they already knew.
Because Theron was right.
Noah could fight him all he wanted.
But his body? His soul?
They had already surrendered.