**Enzo’s POV**

I watched Noah’s face, pale and wide-eyed, filled with fear. My chest twisted, a mix of sadness and anger burning through me. Moses, my wolf, had gone too far, trying to claim him like some prize. I fought him back, clawing my way into control, and now I stood there, my hands shaking, looking at the kid I’d scared half to death. “Are you okay?” I asked, my voice rough but softer than I meant.

He didn’t answer. Just stared at me, his body pressed against the wall, like I was a monster. I took a step forward, wanting to explain, but he flinched, moving back further. That fear in his eyes hit me harder than I expected. I clenched my jaw, turned, and walked out, the door slamming behind me. I couldn’t stay there, not with Moses still growling in my head, not with Noah looking at me like that.

I stormed into my office, the door banging against the wall. Rage boiled inside me, at myself, at Moses, at everything. I grabbed the papers on my desk and threw them to the floor, the pens and ashtray crashing after them. “Damn it!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the empty room. I kicked the chair, sending it skidding, and slammed my fist into the desk, the wood creaking under my strength.

Moses was silent for a moment, then his voice cut through my head, low and stubborn. *I was claiming what’s ours,* he said. *He’s our mate.*

“He’s human!” I snapped, pacing the room. “You saw how scared he was. You made it worse!”

Moses growled, not backing down. *You’re the one pushing him away. He’s ours. We need him.*

I roared, grabbing a glass and hurling it at the wall. It shattered, shards scattering across the floor. “I’m in control, Moses,” I said, my voice shaking. “Not you. Never you.”

The door opened, and Ren walked in, his scarred face tense. He glanced at the mess—papers, broken glass, the chair on its side—and raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay, Alpha?” he asked, his voice careful.

I glared at him, my chest heaving. “Go shopping,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Take Noah. Get him clothes, food, whatever he needs. Make sure he gets what he wants.”

Ren nodded, no questions, and turned to leave. “Got it,” he said, the door clicking shut behind him.

I stood there, my hands clenched, still shaking with rage. Moses was quiet now, but I could feel him lurking, waiting for a chance to push me again. I hated this. Hated how that kid’s tears made me feel, hated how my wolf wouldn’t shut up about him. He was human. Weak. A liability. But every time I thought about his scared eyes, something in me broke.

Night came slow, dragging like it was mocking me. I stood by the window, a cigarette burning between my fingers, watching the driveway. A black car pulled up, and Ren stepped out, opening the door for Noah. The kid climbed out, clutching a couple of bags, his shoulders hunched. He still looked scared, his eyes darting around like he was waiting for something to jump out at him. I hated that look. Hated that I was part of it.

I sat on the couch in my office, the cigarette smoke curling around me, and waited. The door opened, and Ren walked in, his face serious. “How’d it go?” I asked, leaning back, trying to sound calm.

Ren hesitated, shifting his weight. “It went fine,” he said, then paused. “Except… I messed up. Took my eyes off him for a minute, and some guy tried to mess with him.”

My blood went cold. Moses growled, loud and angry, and I stood, my cigarette falling to the floor. “What did you say?” I asked, my voice low, dangerous. “Someone touched him?”

Ren nodded, his eyes steady. “I handled it. Guy won’t try it again. I made sure of it.”

I growled, my claws itching under my skin. “Find him,” I said, my voice shaking with rage. “Now.”

Ren nodded and left, no questions. I paced the room, my heart pounding, Moses clawing at my mind. *He’s ours,* he said. *No one touches what’s ours.* For once, I didn’t argue. The thought of someone laying a hand on Noah made my blood boil, mate or not.

Hours later, Ren came back. The door opened, and a guy was dragged in, his face bloody, his hands tied. He was on his knees, shaking, barely able to look up. I sat in my chair, leaning forward, a gun resting on my knee. “You the one who touched my property?” I asked, my voice cold.

He whimpered, his head shaking. “I didn’t know, I swear!” he said, his voice high and desperate. “I won’t do it again, please!”

I chuckled, the sound bitter, and stood, raising the gun. His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to beg, but I didn’t let him finish. I pulled the trigger, the shot loud in the quiet room. He slumped to the floor, lifeless, blood pooling around him.

“Take him away,” I said, my voice flat. “Feed him to the dogs.”

Ren nodded, motioning to the men behind him. They dragged the body out, leaving a streak of blood on the floor. I sat back down, lighting another cigarette, the smoke burning my throat. “No one touches my property,” I said, my voice low, almost a growl.