Chapter 149: You’re Mine

Reid let out a low, rough rumble deep in his chest, his eyes still dark and turbulent with an unresolved rage.

He looked down at my hands on his chest, then back up to my face, his jaw tight as he mumbled something harsh and bitter under his breath—something about how he still wanted to break Stein’s hands just for thinking they could touch what belonged to him.

​He was completely spinning out, his Alpha instincts locked in a suffocating cycle of panic and aggression. And honestly, my own chest was tight enough to snap. If we kept talking about Edward, if we kept staring into the abyss of our careers imploding, the walls of this penthouse were going to cave in on us.

​I didn’t let him finish his thought.

​Stepping into his space, I reached up and wrapped my arms firmly around his neck. I pulled myself upward, tilting my head back, and pressed my lips directly against his.

​Reid flinched against me, a sudden, sharp intake of air rattling his chest at the unexpected contact.

For a split second, his entire frame stayed rigid, caught in the residual tension of the alleyway. But as I deepened the pressure, desperately pouring all of my own unspoken fears, my silent devotion, and my need for comfort into the kiss, the resistance shattered.

​With a low, ragged groan, Reid leaned heavily into it.

​His large hands came up from my wrists, sliding up my back with a frantic, bruising intensity before burying themselves deep into my hair.

He pulled me flush against his body, lifting me slightly until my toes were barely brushing the hardwood floor. The toxic, bitter edge of his frozen pine scent vanished instantly, bursting into a thick, intoxicating wave of pure possessiveness that completely filled my lungs.

​It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was desperate, sharp, and demanding—a silent, physical battle to erase Edward’s name, Edward’s scent, and Edward’s threats from the very air between us.

Reid poured all his unhinged jealousy and territorial fear into the way his lips moved against mine, marking me over and over again in the quiet safety of our enclosed space, making it entirely clear who I belonged to.

​By the time he finally pulled back a fraction, his forehead remained pressed hard against mine.

Our chests rose and fell in heavy, synchronized pants, our breath mingling in the dim light of the living room. His grey eyes were still blown out with adrenaline, but the blind, murderous glaze had finally softened into something raw and fiercely grounded.

​"You’re mine, Kain," Reid breathed, his voice a rough, gravelly rasp that vibrated straight through my skin. His fingers tightened in my hair, holding me steady. "I don’t care who knows. I don’t care what he tries to do. You’re mine."

"Reid," I muttered, breathless and he crashed his lips against mine again but this time his hands moved down from my hair,to my neck, his touch leaving a trail of burning sensation.

His Pheromones swirled more gently as he tried to devour me with his lips. And before we knew it, we were in the bedroom,m tangling on the sheets, making under our breaths and staring into each other’s eyes in a loving daze.

"Mine," Reid groaned into my ear over and over until every inch of me understood completely that letting me leave him for another would only happen over his dead body.

The next morning, the light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse felt less like a new day and more like a spotlight on a crime scene.

​I woke up with Reid’s heavy, muscular arm clamped around my waist, his face buried deep into the crook of my neck where his lingering frozen pine scent still covered my skin.

For a few brief seconds, the quiet rhythm of his breathing let me pretend the world around us had stopped moving.

​Then, my phone on the nightstand vibrated. Then it vibrated again. And again.

​A cold knot formed in my stomach. I carefully slid out from under Reid’s arm, grabbing the device. The second the screen lit up, my chest tightened. Marcus had left thirteen missed calls.

"What in the...? Did someone die?" I was about to call him to see what had happened when a headline news caught my attention and I tapped on it.

My heart stopped for a second at what I saw.

On social media, the trending tabs were a complete disaster zone.

​The fan photos from the alleyway had leaked at three in the morning, and the internet had spent the last four hours turning it into a spectacular, viral circus.

​The images were brutally clear. In the dim neon lighting, the agitation on my face was unmistakable as my hands desperately locked over Reid’s forearm to hold him back.

Reid looked completely unhinged, a towering, furious Alpha pushing past me, while Edward stood a few paces away, his expression a mask of calm, intense focus.

​The headlines were already running wild, completely bypassing standard sports rivalry:

​"A LEAGUE LOVE TRIANGLE? SERPENTS CAPTAIN EVANS KAIN CAUGHT IN VOLATILE STANDOFF BETWEEN ROOKIE SENSATION MCCOY AND AVALANCHE CAPTAIN STEIN OVERNIGHT!"

​"Post-Game Drama: Did Edward Stein Make a Move on the Serpents’ Cap? Fans Speculate Bitter Rift Beneath the Surface."

​I scrolled through the comments, my jaw tightening. A massive faction of users—mostly long-time critics who despised Reid’s rapid, aggressive rise or anti-fans who hated our dynamic—were already aggressively shipping Edward and me.

​— "Honestly, Stein is a gentleman. Look how composed he is compared to McCoy. McCoy looks like a rabid dog. Evans deserves a real Alpha like Edward."

— "The way Stein is looking at Evans in that second photo... there is definitely history there. Team Stein all the way."

— "McCoy is too toxic for the Cap anyway. Hope Edward steals him."

​"What are you looking at?" a rough, gravelly voice rasped from the bed and I flinched violently as though I had been caught stealing.

​Reid sat up, his hair messy, his grey eyes instantly narrowing as he caught the tense line of my shoulders. He reached out, snatching the phone from my hand before I could hide it.