Stingy Season. I

My hand rains down on the door like a man on a mission.

I knock so loudly the noise stops, meaning so have they.

Thank fuck.

I will never, ever, allow Derrick to have her orgasms.

My hand rises and strikes the door hard. I do it again, louder, and I can feel the vibrations through my knuckles, through my teeth, through my entire body. I'm pretty sure the hinges on the door are moving as well.

“Derrick,” I call, my voice carrying authority, calm but edged with steel. “You need to come outside. Now.”

Before all this, my plan was just to check on Winter, preferably without Derrick's presence. But now I have a better plan. It just so happened that during dinner, while the others ate and dined away, a message from the vampires about their situation. They've been having rogue and power hierarchy issues. Some new generation vampires are tired of the old system and want a change and are stirring up trouble, killing middle men or other men associated with their rulers. That's not good for us, since we already have business deals with the vampires as they do with us. A government change means our deal may not stand, or may come at higher prices, or at worst, war. So I need the vampires to remain exactly as they are. I sent Derrick to make scapegoats out of the suspected vampires trying to scare them but it seemed it didn't work. Another worker under one of their heads was found dead in his home. Obviously this issue could wait till dawn but I want Derrick out of the palace and for tangible reasons so….

After my knock, there is silence. He does not answer immediately. My patience frays. I know exactly where he is, I know exactly what he is doing, and I do not care that it is inconvenient for him. She is inside. Alone. He is in the room with her. That is enough to make my blood thrum in my veins.

I try the mindlink, just enough to pierce his defenses, just enough to let him know my intent. “I said now,” I tell him mentally. “It cannot wait until morning. You are coming.”

I feel the faint pressure of resistance push back against me. His stubbornness, his pride, his desire to linger, it pulses against my link, and I grit my teeth to contain the flare of irritation in my chest. I will not allow him to negotiate. I will not allow him to bargain. Not when she is here, not when I am this close, not when the air itself is thick with what he is doing to her.

The knock comes again, harder, sharper, and my voice rises slightly. “Derrick,” I say aloud this time. “You will come outside immediately.”

I hear a muttered curse under his breath. I catch only fragments. “…seriously… right now…” He is testing me, as he always does, and I do not give him the chance to push back further. I do not allow myself to lose control, though the heat of her presence, her scent, the memory of what has just passed through the mindlink, it sets fire to my chest and forces me to breathe more deeply than I would like.

I knock once more. This time there is no room for argument, no pause, no hesitation. “Now,” I repeat, my tone flat and final. “No negotiation. Come out now.”

The door shifts, then opens. I feel the subtle movement of him adjusting his stance, the flicker of tension in his body as he measures me. He thinks he can resist. He thinks he can delay. I do not allow it. Not for a second. My mind is locked on the only thing that matters, the only thing I will allow myself to feel in this moment. To see at this moment. Her. Winter.

She's absolutely stunning.

Her hair is down and the tips still drip with water, staining the sheets. Said sheets she uses to cover up even though technically she isn't naked. Her face is flushed, and the blue blush brings out her eyes in a way I can't describe.

Derrick finally steps into the hallway, trying to block my view, but I do not allow him. I do not flinch, or look away even though my chest burns, though my hands tighten at my sides, at the thought of what he was just doing with her.

He looks at me, really looks at me, then licks his lips. I catch how drift immediately and it takes a lot of courage not to shred him in half.

“You cannot remain here,” I say, my voice calm but unyielding. “You need to leave immediately. There is something is utmost importance you just attend to from now .”

I explain the situation via mindlink.

He shifts his weight. He exhales through his nose, sharp and controlled, like he is trying to maintain composure. I can feel the tension in his body as he weighs his options. He wants to resist. I can feel it in every small muscle, every microgesture, every unspoken intention. I do not allow it. Not here. Not now.

He mutters, trying again, “It can wait until morning. There is no immediate threat.”

“No,” I say, my voice dropping slightly, carrying absolute authority. “It cannot wait until morning. You are leaving now. You will obey without arguing. Our investments are in that territory Derrick."

I watch him. I see the calculation in his expression, the flicker of defiance, the hesitation. It does not matter. He cannot resist. She is inside, and I will not allow him to linger, to test her, to touch her in places that are supposed to be mine.

Finally, he straightens. He mutters another word under his breath, barely audible, and I sense his reluctant acknowledgment. He steps back fully, giving space. I do not relent. I do not soften. I allow the silence to stretch, letting the weight of my control press against him, letting him understand that he has no choice.

He retreats from the doorway slightly, enough that I can see her, enough that the faintest trace of her presence reaches me, and it ignites something in my chest that I do not allow to break my control. Her pulse is fast, shallow, visible in the way she shifts slightly, holding herself together. I can sense every subtle shiver, every inhalation, every nervous quirk. She is mine, and some things just aren't meant to be shared.

Derrick adjusts, clearly frustrated but obedient, and I hold my stance, my gaze fixed, the weight of my will pressing down on him. I am calm, I am steady, I am Alpha, and I allow no one to challenge that authority in this moment.

He steps back fully, and I sense him preparing to leave the room entirely. I take one measured breath and let it out slowly, letting the control settle in my chest, letting every nerve sharpen to the point of awareness.

Then our eyes meet. Mine and hers.

I hold her gaze for the longest possible moment before he closes the door, before the latch clicks, sealing the threshold between the hallway and her room.

I see everything in that instant, the awareness, the heat, the trust, the unspoken ownership. I see it in her eyes. I see her pulse in the quick rise of her chest, the subtle tilt of her head, the slight catch of her breath. She knows. She feels it.

And for the briefest second, everything else fades, the hallway, Derrick, the urgency, the night itself. All that matters is her.

Then the door clicks, closing the space, but not the tension. Not the connection. Not the promise of what is to come.