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The endearment shouldn't make my core clench with need. It does.

"I don't know," I whisper, the admission torn from somewhere deep inside me.

"Your body knows." His massive hand cups my face, thumb tracing the claiming marks on my throat. "Even when your mind fights it."

The touch ignites every nerve ending in my neck, sending heat straight to my core. I should pull away. Should maintain some fragment of dignity. Instead, I find myself leaning into his palm like a cat seeking warmth.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he commands softly.

"That I hate how you make me feel." The words come out raw, honest. "That I should want to escape, should fight you every moment. But I don't."

"And what do you want instead?"

The question hangs between us, dangerous in its implications. My eyes drop to his mouth, wondering what it would feel like to kiss him without being claimed first. To choose the contact instead of having it forced on me.

"I want..." I start, then stop. The admission lodged in my throat.

"Say it." His thumb continues its maddening stroke across my pulse point. "Tell your alpha what you need."

"I want to stop fighting what I feel," I whisper. "I want to understand why my body craves yours even when my mind knows it's wrong."

His pupils dilate at my words, and I catch the sharp intake of breath that tells me I've affected him too. "There's nothing wrong with omega biology responding to a compatible alpha."

"Compatible?" I laugh, the sound hollow. "You claimed me by force."

"I saved you from bleeding out in a storm." His grip tightens slightly, not painful but possessive. "I could have left you to die and claimed someone else."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because the moment I scented you, I knew." His voice drops to that register that seems to vibrate directly through my bones. "My omega. Mine to protect, mine to provide for, mine to breed until you're round with my offspring."

The casual mention of breeding should terrify me. Instead, it sends liquid heat pooling between my thighs. We both know he's already filled me countless times with his seed, my body accepting every drop during those endless heat cycles. "What if nothing comes of it?"

"It will." The certainty in his voice makes me shiver. "Your body was made to carry my young. Every time I knot you, every time I pump you full of seed, we're creating the future that belongs to us both."

I want to deny it, but slick is already dampening my thighs despite the cool mountain air. My scent gives me away as surely as if I'd spoken the words aloud.

"Not here," I manage, even as my body screams for his touch.

"Why not?" His free hand moves to my waist, claws carefully retracted. "Afraid someone might see? Might witness how perfectly you respond to your alpha?"

"We need to focus on survival training," I say weakly, grasping for rational thought while his proximity scrambles my brain.

"This is survival training." His thumb traces my lower lip, and I have to fight not to draw it into my mouth. "Learning to trust your alpha. Learning to accept protection instead of fighting it."

"Is that what this is? Protection?"

"Everything I do protects you." His hand slides from my face to the back of my neck, fingers spanning the claiming marks that brand me as his. "Teaching you to hunt protects you. Teaching you to navigate protects you. Teaching you to submit protects you."

"Submit." The word comes out breathless.

"When the time comes for you to run, you'll need to trust your instincts. Trust your alpha's commands. Trust that I know what's best for your survival." His grip tightens slightly, just enough to remind me of his strength. "Can you do that, omega?"

The question isn't just about wilderness survival, and we both know it. It's about everything between us—the claiming, the bond, the future neither of us can predict.

"I don't know," I admit.

"Then we keep training." He releases me, stepping back with that infuriating control he always maintains. "Until you do."