Noah had been hunted before.
He knew what it felt like to have a predator watching, waiting, calculating. But this—this—was different.
Theron wasn't hunting him.
He was drowning in him.
Noah could see it—the war raging behind those golden eyes, the way the alpha's breathing had turned rough, how his fists clenched like he was physically restraining himself from doing something dangerous.
Noah should have been smug.
But for the first time… he wasn't sure if he had pushed too far.
Because this wasn't just about dominance anymore.
This was possession.
And Theron looked one second away from snapping.
Noah swallowed, carefully keeping his expression neutral. "So," he murmured, voice softer now, almost testing. "Are you going to let me go, Alpha?"
A muscle ticked in Theron's jaw.
Slowly—so painfully slowly—he stepped back. Just enough to give space. But not enough to erase the heat between them.
His voice was a growl, barely restrained.
"Stay out of trouble."
Then, without another word, Theron turned and walked away, his movements sharp, controlled, forced.
And Noah?
Noah watched him go, heart pounding with something unfamiliar.
For the first time since he had met Theron…
He didn't feel like he'd won.