Dominic's POV
That night, I sat in my office, a glass of whiskey in my hand, but I wasn't drinking it.
I was thinking about him.
The way he looked at me today,furious, flustered, tempted.
I knew what I was doing when I pinned him down. I knew what I was doing when I let my thumb brush over his pulse, feeling the rapid, uncontrollable rhythm of his heartbeat.
He'd wanted to fight me. Wanted to hate me.
But his body had betrayed him.
And I'd felt it.
I exhaled, leaning back in my chair.
Ashen Wolfe was a fucking enigma. Stubborn, volatile, too damn proud for his own good. But underneath all that resistance, underneath the sharp edges and the cutting words, there was something else.
Something fragile.
He didn't want to be weak. Didn't want to need anyone.
And yet,he had needed me last night.
That moment in his room, when he'd woken up shaking, gasping for air, eyes wide with panic… That hadn't been just a bad dream.
It had been his past choking him.
I wasn't an idiot. I knew what fear looked like. What survival looked like.
And Ashen? He had survived something ugly.
My jaw clenched as I swirled the whiskey in my glass.
He thought I was like him.
Like whoever had hurt him.
He had looked at me,fought me—like I was another cage waiting to lock him down.
But I wasn't.
I wasn't a fucking savior, either.
I didn't do soft. I didn't do gentle.
But I did take what was mine.
And Ashen?
He was mine.
Even if he wasn't ready to admit it yet.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
Ryker strolled in, hands in his pockets, smirking like he knew exactly what was on my mind.
"Well?" he drawled. "Did you finally break him?"
I exhaled through my nose, setting my glass down. "Not yet."
Ryker whistled. "Damn. And here I thought you'd have him begging by now."
I shot him a look, but he just grinned.
Then, after a beat, his expression turned more serious.
"You know he's never going to make this easy, right?"
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my desk. "If I wanted easy, I would've chosen someone else."
Ryker studied me for a long moment before shaking his head with a chuckle. "You're fucked."
Maybe.
But as I thought about the way Ashen had looked at me today, the way his pulse had jumped under my touch, the way he had stared after I let him go…
I knew one thing for certain.
He was fucked, too.
The next day
I could still feel the rapid thrum of Ashen's pulse beneath my fingertips.
Even now, as I stood with my arms crossed, watching him stalk off the training mats like a storm cloud ready to break, the memory lingered. The way his chest had heaved. The way his silver eyes had burned with something torn between rage and something else.
Something I planned to unravel.
"You're playing with fire," Ryker muttered beside me, arms lazily folded across his chest.
I smirked, rolling my shoulders. "Am I?"
Ryker huffed a laugh. "You know damn well you are." He shot a glance toward Ashen, who was taking his frustration out on a training dummy. "He's one step away from either kissing you or ripping your throat out."
The thought sent a rush of something darkly satisfying through me.
Because I knew which one would win.
"He's already mine," I said simply.
Ryker whistled. "Tell him that."
Oh, I would.
But not yet.
I turned, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from my neck, eyes still locked onto Ashen's form. He was deliberately ignoring me, muscles tight with tension.
He hated that I had pinned him. That I had controlled him, if only for a second.
And yet, for all his fighting, for all his snarling resistance, he hadn't pulled away the moment I touched his throat.
He had frozen.
Let me hold him there.
Let me have him.
For a brief, intoxicating second.
I exhaled slowly, rubbing the towel over my jaw. I needed to be smart about this. Patient. Ashen wasn't ready to accept the truth—not yet.
But I had time.
And I was a very, very patient man.
I turned to Ryker. "I need a favor."
He raised a brow. "Oh? And what do I get out of it?"
I shot him a flat look.
He chuckled. "Alright, fine. What is it?"
I glanced back at Ashen. At the way his fists clenched at his sides, his shoulders tight, his entire body coiled like a spring wound too tight.
I knew how to push him.
How to make him see what he refused to.
"I need you to get under his skin," I said. "Just a little."
Ryker blinked, then groaned. "Oh, you asshole. You want me to flirt with him?"
I smirked. "Just enough to piss him off."
Ryker rolled his eyes. "You're going to owe me for this."
"Fine."
He sighed dramatically before raking a hand through his hair. "Alright, but if he punches me, I'm making you heal my damn nose."
I clapped him on the shoulder, satisfied.
This was going to be .
I leaned casually against a nearby post, arms crossed, watching as Ryker strolled toward Ashen.
Ashen was still bristling, landing heavy blows on the training dummy like it had personally offended him. He didn't notice Ryker at first, not until my Beta stopped a few feet away and whistled low.
"Damn, Wolfe," Ryker drawled. "Didn't know you hit that hard."
Ashen barely spared him a glance. "What do you want?"
Ryker smirked. "Just admiring the view."
I nearly laughed at the way Ashen stiffened, his next punch faltering slightly.
"Oh, fuck off, Ryker." He went back to hitting the dummy.
But Ryker wasn't done.
He stepped closer, tilting his head. "You know, you look good when you're pissed off. Kinda hot, actually."
Ashen froze.
Slowly, slowly, he turned his head, silver eyes narrowing into a sharp glare.
Ryker just grinned. "What? Can't a guy give a compliment?"
I could see the moment Ashen's patience snapped. His jaw clenched, hands curling into fists at his sides.
And then—
He swung.
Ryker dodged at the last second, laughing as he stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. "Damn, relax! No need to get violent."
"Stay the fuck away from me," Ashen growled, his entire body taut with fury.
Ryker shot me a quick glance, barely holding back his amusement. Your move.
I pushed off the post and took my time walking over, my smirk lazy, knowing.
Ashen was still glaring at Ryker like he wanted to rip his throat out.
"Problem, Wolfe?" I asked, voice smooth, amused.
His glare snapped to me, burning hot. "Your Beta's an asshole."
I chuckled. "I know."
Ryker shrugged. "Hey, can't blame a guy for appreciating a pretty face."
Ashen growled, muscles flexing like he was this close to going for another swing.
I watched him carefully, my own amusement settling into something deeper, darker.
He wasn't just angry.
He was jealous.
I stepped closer, until I was right in front of him, until I could see the way his breath hitched, the way his pupils dilated just slightly despite the rage in his eyes.
"Relax," I murmured, low enough that only he could hear. "You're cute when you're possessive."
His breath stopped.
His entire body went rigid.
For a moment, just a flicker of a second, he didn't know how to react.
And that?
That was exactly what I wanted.
I smirked, then leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a near whisper.
"But you don't need to be jealous, Wolfe." I let my fingers brush his wrist lightly, fleeting. "I'm not interested in him."
His breath came sharp, ragged.
And then, with a snarl, he shoved me back—hard.
I let it happen, let the force of it push me a step back, but my smirk didn't waver.
Because for all his growling, for all his fury—
His face was red.
And he was still looking at me.
I tilted my head, my voice a lazy drawl. "Feeling territorial, are we?"
Ashen bared his teeth. "Fuck you."
I chuckled. "Eventually."
His breath hitched again, barely noticeable.
Then, with a final glare, he turned on his heel and stormed off.
Ryker let out a low whistle. "Damn. You really know how to push his buttons."
I watched Ashen's retreating form, my smirk sharpening.
"Yeah," I murmured. "And I'm just getting started."