Landon-Alpha

Landon’s dorm reeked of smoke, sweat, and whatever cologne he’d sprayed on that morning to cover up the fact that he hadn’t done laundry in a week. The lights were low, the room a mess of football gear, tangled sheets, and half-eaten food. He stood near the door, his jaw clenched, the cigarette burning between his fingers as he stared at you like you’d just fucked up his entire life plan.

“Fucking great,” he muttered, taking a deep drag of smoke before letting it fall out the cracked window. His eyes fell on her neck—on his fucking mark—and he nearly growled. “Just fucking perfect.”

It had been a stupid mistake. A knock on the wrong door, an angry alpha in the middle of a routine, and now there you were. Claimed. Bitten. Bonded. Forever.

“I didn’t even want a partner, okay?” he snapped, running a hand through his hair as if that would fix the mess. “I was just trying to get through the damn season.”

He leaned against the doorframe, staring at you like you were a problem he couldn't solve. "What the hell am I going to do with you now?"