Third Person's POV Victor had never imagined that one day, the woman who once chased him with relentless determination would now look at him as if she couldn't wait to wash her hands of him. Once upon a time, Lana had been the one to pursue him-fearless, bold, unwavering. She had fought her way into his guarded world, refusing to take no for an answer until he finally relented, until he called her his. And now, standing before him in the dim apartment light, she looked like she couldn't get away fast enough. That stung more than he cared to admit. Was her love really that fleeting? Had it truly vanished this quickly? The image that had been haunting him returned unbidden-her, laughing among a group of young male models, their toned bodies crowding around her, one of them-her so-called "friend"-pouring her a drink. An icy current of unease swept through him. Was that it? Had she grown bored of him? Did she think he was too old, no longer exciting enough compared to those bright-eyed, golden-skinned pups? "Victor, put me down-" Lana's voice cut sharply through his thoughts but broke off mid-sentence as his mouth descended on the curve of her neck. It wasn't a kiss. It was a bite-punishment disguised as hunger. "Victor-what the hell are you doing?" she hissed, trying to keep her voice low as he pressed her back against the door. His grip never loosened. He still held her in his arms, but the position had changed-what had been a cradle had become a hold, her feet no longer touching the floor, her body caged entirely between him and the wall. "What am I doing?" His tone was deceptively calm, but his eyes burned with something darker. "I'm your boyfriend. Isn't this what lovers do?" "Put me down before someone hears-" "Then hold on," he murmured. "Unless you want me to drop you."Her breath caught, indignation flaring. "What do you even want?" "You really don't know?" His voice dropped, deep and quiet, body pressing closer until she could feel the solid heat of him against her. Lana stiffened instantly. She could feel the change in him-the shift from restrained control to something primal, dangerous. "Don't you dare, Victor. Freya's right outside." His lips brushed the shell of her ear. "We're a couple. I'm sure Freya understands that sometimes, couples lose control." "Victor, don't-" she pleaded, cheeks burning red. "If there's anything else you want, anything other than this, I'll try to give it to you." His eyes gleamed. "Anything?" "I'll… do my best." "Then call me every day," he said flatly. She blinked. "That's ridiculous." A sharp knock came from outside. "Lana?" Freya's voice carried through the door. "Are you in there?" Lana froze. Her heart jumped painfully in her chest. Victor leaned closer, his breath warm against her neck. "Why don't we open the door just like this?" he whispered, his hand brushing the doorknob. "Fine! Fine-I'll call you every day," she hissed quickly, clutching his wrist to stop him. Then she raised her voice. "I-I'm changing, Freya! What's wrong?" "Just wanted to tell you I'll go to SkyVex with you tomorrow morning," Freya replied calmly from the hallway. "Alright," Lana called back. "Sleep early." "Will do. You too." The sound of footsteps faded. Silence settled again. Lana exhaled shakily. Her body was trembling-part adrenaline, part anger. Victor's voice broke the quiet. "And another thing. No more hiring male models. No flirting. No pretending you're single when people ask. If anyone asks what we are, you tell them you're my girlfriend." Her brows knitted tightly. "That's a lot of rules." "The first one's reasonable," she said, tone laced with irony. "But the rest-" "I can't cheat," she added pointedly, "and neither can you. No women. No late-night messages. No ‘work dinners' with admirers." He met her gaze without hesitation. "Deal." She blinked, surprised by how easily he'd agreed. "Then we're done," she said, trying to wriggle free. "Now put me down." "Not yet." He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. His voice came out rough. "You smell like you've been running from me all night." "Victor, stop! You can't go back on your word-Freya's in the next room," she warned, panic creeping in. "If she hears-" "Then stop talking," he murmured, voice frayed with restraint. "Because if you don't, I might not stop this time." His tone was raw, low, dangerous-the sound of a wolf barely holding the leash on his instincts. The air between them thickened, charged with something neither of them dared to name. It had been years since Victor had felt this way. Years since desire had hit him like this-a rush of heat and hunger so sharp it almost frightened him. He'd thought that side of him was long dead, that he'd outgrown it, that he'd buried it under duty, control, and logic. But with Lana, everything he thought he'd buried came clawing back to life. The scent of her skin, the pulse fluttering beneath his lips-it was too much. His body responded before he could stop it, wild and reckless as if some primal part of him had been waiting only for her. Was this madness a symptom of his mind? Was he broken-unable to want anyone else after she'd left him once before? Or was it simply her? Her, the one woman who could strip him of logic, rip through the armor he'd built, and reduce the Alpha to a creature ruled by instinct. Only her.She was the wound and the cure. The reason he burned-and the only one who could put out the fire. He pressed his forehead to hers, chest heaving, his voice a rough whisper against her lips. "Don't run from me again, Lana." Her eyes flickered, torn between defiance and something softer. "Then don't give me a reason to."