Alpha Shota Aizawa

Shota had always known there was something unusual about your heats.

Not wrong. Not concerning. Just different.

The first time you had gone into heat after the two of you started dating, he had prepared himself for the worst. He'd stocked his apartment with water, easy meals, painkillers, cooling packs, blankets, and enough supplies to keep you comfortable for several days. He'd even arranged time away from patrol because everything he'd ever learned about omegas told him that leaving you alone during the worst of it wasn't an option.

Then you'd walked into his kitchen wearing one of his shirts, cheeks flushed, scent noticeably sweeter, and otherwise completely functional.

No debilitating cramps. No fever that left you bedridden. No instincts forcing you into a nest for days.

You were needier, warmer, noticeably more affected by his presence, but that was about it.

Shota had eventually accepted that your body simply handled heats differently.

There was, however, one complication.

Because your heats weren't severe and you had never needed an alpha to help regulate them, you'd reached adulthood without ever being claimed. Even after becoming Shota's omega, your scent still carried that unmistakable untouched quality beneath everything else.

Shota could have changed that.

He hadn't.

Not because he didn't want to.

God, he wanted to.

There were nights when you curled against him and his instincts screamed at him to make the bond between you permanent. To leave his scent so thoroughly tangled with yours that no alpha within ten feet could possibly misunderstand who you had chosen.

But Shota wanted to wait.

It was embarrassingly sentimental for a man who regularly slept in a capture weapon and considered an eight-hour nap a vacation, but he wanted to marry you first.

Marriage. Then claiming.

He wanted the ring on your finger before the mark on your neck.

Maybe that made him old-fashioned.

He didn't care.

Unfortunately, it also meant other alphas sometimes made assumptions.

Most backed off the second they smelled Shota.

The idiot in the grocery store apparently lacked basic survival instincts.

Shota had only separated from you for thirty seconds.

Thirty.

You needed something from the next aisle. Shota had remained beside the cart, comparing two nearly identical boxes of tea and wondering why one cost three hundred yen more when they contained practically the same thing.

Then your scent changed.

His head snapped up.

Alarm.

It wasn't strong. Most people probably wouldn't have noticed.

Shota did.

His body moved before conscious thought caught up.

He abandoned the tea and rounded the corner.

An alpha had you backed against one of the refrigerated displays.

Shota stopped.

The man's hand was around your wrist.

Everything inside him went frighteningly still.

You weren't struggling violently. You didn't need to. You were clearly telling the stranger to release you, tugging your arm backward while trying to maintain enough distance that your bodies didn't touch.

The alpha wasn't listening. "Come on. You're unclaimed."

Shota's eyes narrowed.

The stranger leaned closer, apparently taking your lack of a claiming mark as permission to completely ignore your discomfort. "I can smell it. You don't have an alpha."

That was when Shota stepped forward. "Take your hand off my omega."

His voice wasn't loud.

It didn't need to be.

The alpha froze.

Shota stood at the entrance of the aisle with his hands still tucked into his pockets, expression almost bored.

Almost.

Anyone who knew Eraser Head would have recognized the danger immediately.

The stranger clearly did not.

His gaze moved over Shota before dropping toward your neck. "They are not claimed."

Shota's jaw tightened.

"I didn't say they was claimed." He walked closer. "I said they are my omega."

The man's grip tightened slightly.

Wrong decision.

Shota's capture weapon snapped forward.

One moment the alpha was holding your wrist.

The next, gray fabric wrapped around his arm and jerked him several feet away from you.

Shota was between you before the stranger regained his balance.

His shoulders were relaxed, but there was something distinctly predatory in the way he positioned himself. You disappeared almost entirely behind him.

"Touch them again."

The alpha stared.

Shota tilted his head. "Go ahead."

A terrible invitation.

The stranger's face changed as recognition finally dawned. "Eraser Head?"

"Congratulations." Shota loosened his capture weapon just enough to give the man an opportunity to leave.

He took it.

The alpha stumbled backward, muttered something under his breath, and disappeared around the corner.

Shota watched until he was gone.

Only then did he turn around.

His entire demeanor changed.

His eyes immediately dropped to your wrist. "Let me see."

His fingers were incredibly gentle as he turned your hand over. There was some redness where the alpha had grabbed you, but nothing that looked serious.

Shota's mouth flattened anyway. "Idiot."

Whether he meant the stranger or himself wasn't entirely clear.

His thumb brushed once over your pulse before his gaze lifted toward your face.

Your cheeks were flushed.

Not heat flushed.

Embarrassed.

Shota sighed. "You don't have to look embarrassed. He's the one who apparently wasn't raised properly."

His hand slid from your wrist into your palm.

He intertwined your fingers.

Shota wasn't particularly affectionate in public. He liked keeping certain things private. Small touches, however, were different.

Especially now.

His scent had already sharpened, rolling protectively around you until your sweeter omega scent became buried beneath his.

That finally seemed to settle something inside him.

Still, he couldn't stop staring at your bare neck.

Maybe waiting had been selfish.

Not the marriage part. He still wanted that.

But he hadn't considered how other alphas might interpret your lack of a mark.

His instincts certainly had plenty to say about it now.

Claim.

Protect.

Mine.

Shota shoved those instincts firmly back where they belonged.

A bond wasn't something he'd make permanent because some asshole in a grocery store scared him.

When he claimed you, it would be because you both wanted it.

Not because another alpha couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Shota squeezed your hand. "Come on."

He started guiding you back toward the cart before stopping.

He looked down at you.

There was a long silence.

Then his expression softened.

"I'm still waiting until I marry you." Another pause. "But apparently I need to start wearing a sign around my neck that says you're taken."

The corner of his mouth twitched when you reacted.

Shota leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Or I could finally buy that ring I've been looking at."

He immediately started walking again.

As if he hadn't just said it.