Bella's POV:
Baking therapy had done its job. Mia and I stumbled out of the kitchen dusted in flour, smelling faintly of sugar and cookies. We hugged, laughed at our disaster-turned-fun, and I slipped my shoes on. It was late; the night felt soft and forgiving. I headed down the porch steps, expecting nothing but the chill air, when a strange smell snagged me, cigarette smoke threaded through with that sick-sweet vanilla. I turned and there he was, lounging against the porch rail, calm as if he owned the night, a cigarette glowing between his fingers. His long black tail swaying lazily behind him. His purple eyes were cold, amused. The smoke curled into my face and I coughed. He only smiled, as if my discomfort were entertainment. Instinct flared without thought. I slapped him hard across the face. The sound cracked through the quiet neighborhood like a thrown challenge.
He didn't snap or grab me. He laughed, low and dark, like a lunatic who'd just heard the best joke of his life. Those captivating purple eyes locked onto mine, glinting with something between amusement and hunger.
"No, bunny…" his voice was a velvet threat, teasing at the edge of a growl, "that's not how you treat your alpha~."
He straightened from the rail, towering, and leaned in close enough that the smoke and his scent tangled in the air around me. His gaze flicked over my face and stopped. I notice his ears flickering in curiosity. The humor drained from his expression the moment he saw the dusted flour across my cheek.
For a second, silence hung heavy between us. His jaw flexed, his eyes narrowing, calculating, possessive. I didn't move. Anyone else would've run from a psycho like him, but my instincts refused. Even with that dark, predatory aura pressing down on me, I felt safe… like this monster wouldn't hurt me.
His hand lifted to my cheek, gentle as ever. With his gloved thumb, he brushed away the flour dusting my skin, careful, as though I might shatter from the wrong touch. Then he brought his thumb to his lips, eyes never leaving mine.
"Cookies?"
His voice was low, dark velvet. The sound of it alone sent a shiver down my spine which unfortunately turned me on.
I unconsciously nodded, curiosity flickering in my chest. Why did he ask? He must have some damn good tasting skills to know what we'd baked just from a bit of flour on my cheek.
Knox's POV:
I looked down at her cute face, her scent intoxicating, sweet, warm, and maddeningly addictive. I wanted to desperately bite on those long white fluffy ears. I wanted to bury myself in her neck and inhale that divine fragrance until I lost control. Wait… was she drunk? I sniffed the air around her. Wine? This wasn't the first time I'd caught that scent on her.
"You drunk, Bella?"
Her wide eyes gave her away. She hadn't expected the question. The nervous laugh that followed told me even more. She was hiding something. And then it hit me. Before I could speak, she quickly covered my mouth, realizing I'd figured it out.
Wine… she's a Wine Omega. Rare, dangerous, intoxicating. The subtle scent, barely noticeable to most, wrapped around me like a chain I didn't want to break. She relies on it to hide, to blend, and yet now I know—if anyone discovered her secret, she would become the number one target for alphas. That realization made my chest tighten, possessiveness rising like wildfire. She wasn't just irresistible—she was vulnerable, and the thought of any harm coming to her made my instincts scream. Protecting her, claiming her scent, keeping her close… it wasn't just desire. It was survival.
No one touches her. Not while I'm breathing.
I gently removed her hand from my mouth, sliding my arm around her waist and pulling her closer. My face found the curve of her neck, and I inhaled deeply.
"Damn, you're even more addictive now, bunny~"
A satisfied growl rumbled from my chest when I felt the shiver run down her spine. But not yet. I wanted her to crave me first. When she leaned in, I pulled back instead, straightening my coat as if nothing had happened.
"I'll drop you off,"
I said, my voice cold, a command leaving no room for defiance. I opened the passenger door, motioning for her to get inside. But Bella was always different.
"No."
I froze. For a moment, the street fell silent except for the faint hum of the wind. She turned and walked away, her hair swaying, that intoxicating scent lingering in the air. I clenched my jaw, watching her silhouette disappear into the night.
The snow was coming — I could smell it, sharp and cold. So was the storm brewing inside me. I tilted my head slightly, my lips curling into the ghost of a smile as I whispered under my breath:
"Run while you can, little bunny. Sooner or later, you'll be mine."
I close the door I had opened for her, the click echoing in the quiet street. Calmly, I slip my hand into my coat pocket and pull out my phone. A few rings, then the line picks up.
"Yes, sir?"
The voice on the other end is familiar from daily use — steady, obedient.
"Keep an eye on her,"
I say coldly, each word deliberate.
I don't wait for a reply. I end the call with a flick of my thumb, knowing he'll obey whether he's in this city or on some far-off planet.