I had just finished reading the instructions when I took the pills, pouring a cup of warm water and placing both in front of Elliot. "Here are the pills. Take them." He accepted them without hesitation, his movements steady despite the alcohol thick on his breath.
He leaned back onto the sofa after swallowing them, his eyes still fixed on me, carrying that subtle Alpha pressure that always unsettled my instincts. "I want to rest a bit longer," he murmured, his voice low and heavy with fatigue and something deeper beneath it.
I didn't press him. The scent of liquor clung to him, and I could still feel the burn in my own chest from drinking on his behalf at my father's gathering. My instincts pulled in conflicting directions—concern tangled with caution, awareness of his dominance, and the bond I kept trying to ignore.
"Why did you drink that for me?" Elliot's voice softened, edged with something almost tender. "You really do care about me, don't you?"
