Alex is mine!

Damien jolted awake, his heart racing as if he sensed an impending threat. The bed felt cold and empty next to him, where Alex should have been. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, scanning the darkened room. 

"Alex?" he called, his voice barely above a whisper. "Alex?" 

Complete silence. Outside, the sky had turned to night, and the room felt uncomfortably chilly and hollow. Damien inhaled deeply, taking in the scent that still lingered—his own mixture of pheromones and the fresh scent of a mountain air breeze.

He couldn't shake the disbelief of what had just happened between him and Alex. Had Alex truly forgiven him? Was it possible that he had moved past the pain and betrayal Damien had caused? As hard as it was to believe, Damien felt he had to accept it. The moments they had shared, filled with passion and desire, suggested a new beginning.

A flush of warmth crept into Damien's cheeks as he reflected on their time together. He couldn't believe how passionate they had been, how reckless in their pursuit of each other. It was a level of intimacy that had caught him by surprise, especially when Alex had asked him to knot him. That moment felt charged with an intensity that both excited and terrified him.

But as he reminisced, something caught his eye—a piece of paper lying in front of the door. A wave of unease washed over him, making his stomach twist. He approached it cautiously, fearing what it might contain. Unfolding the paper sent a shiver down his spine as he read the scrawled words: 

"I'm leaving you and this family behind. I will never be able to start over with you. Don't look for me. Have a good life and a good revenge. Goodbye. Alex."

It felt as if the ground had fallen away beneath him. The words hit like a punch to the gut, a mix of disbelief and agony rushing through him. How could Alex do this? How could he leave him after everything they had just shared? 

Fury and desperation ignited inside of him, pushing him out of the room. He was about to rush to Alex's room when his phone rang. He almost ignored it but decided to pick up.

"Sir, it's Victor," came the voice on the other end, steady and urgent. "I've been tracking Ian Masterson like you asked. Something strange is happening. Alex was standing by a phone booth while Ian was driving by and he decided to follow him. An older man picked Alex up, and they're at a hotel right now. Ian's outside—he looks really agitated."

Damien felt the blood drain from his face, the full implications of Victor's words crashing upon him like an avalanche. Alex, who had just shared everything so intimately, had left him and was now ensnared in the clutches of another man in a hotel room? How could this be happening? How could Alex run into another man's arms so soon after what happened between them?

"Send me the address of the hotel," Damien commanded, his voice laced with urgency as he fought to maintain a veneer of control. "And stand by." 

Even as he spoke, his heart hammered against his ribcage, pulsing with a desperate rhythm that echoed the chaos within. Autopilot engaged, Damien sprang into action, moving like a whirlwind through the motions—showering and dressing with single-minded focus, rage electrifying every nerve in his body.

He felt a desperate ache in his chest; Alex was his! His in the deepest, most profound way, and the fear of losing him consumed Damien.

With each painful moment that passed, a fierce possessiveness ignited within him. He couldn't simply let Alex slip away. He had to find him, to bring him back to his side. It didn't matter if Alex could never forgive him; as long as he was within Damien's sight, that was enough.