The Female Alpha's Human Mate
he says, but there’s a crack in it now—small, almost unnoticeable, but there.
“She does if she’s meant to lead.”
“She doesn’t,” he growls, his voice dropping into something deeper, heavier, pressing into the space between us as his control slips just enough to let it show. “Not while I’m still breathing. Not while you’re fucking alive.”
This time, it lands differently—not just words, but power, real and suffocating, rolling off him in crushing waves that press into skin and bone, territorial—demanding submission, demanding obedience.