Breaking the Arrogant Alphas

It happened on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

The sun spilled in through half-open blinds, painting long, warm stripes of light across the cluttered hardwood floor of Krishna's apartment. The air tunned low with the distant sound of traffic and the occasional dog barking from somewhere down the street.

Krishna lay sprawled sideways on her couch, one leg tossed over the armrest like she hadn't a single care in the world, the other dangling loosely off the edge. Her oversized shirt slipped off one shoulder, revealing a hint of skin, and her phone rested lazily on her stomach as she scrolled through her feed.

Cat memes. Trashy gossip threads. Useless drama about people she didn't care about.

The usual.

Every few seconds, she yawned. Slow, deliberate. Like the universe owed her better entertainment.

On the floor beside her?

Aaron Triton.

Kneeling.

Focused.

Silent.

Completely absorbed.

Dressed in fitted joggers and a plain designer tee that probably cost more than most people's rent. His hair, still damp from a morning shower, curled slightly at his neck as he worked, sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

The sight itself was stupidly ironic.

A once-proud Alpha from a high political family, now reduced to quietly peeling the tape off cardboard boxes like some overqualified intern on his first miserable day at work.

There was at least five unopened delivery packages piled beside him. Clothes she didn't need, makeup she already owned three versions of, imported snacks, and… something from an obscure boutique she didn't even remember ordering at 2 AM two nights ago.

Aaron opened each box carefully, setting aside tissue paper, folding receipts, and lining her new things with the kind of gentle focus people usually reserved for bomb disposal squads.

Krishna's lips twitched at the sight.

Her very own overpaid, over-eager, emotionally-compromised personal assistant… who once had a board seat somewhere important.

"Hey."

Her voice came soft, lazy - like an afterthought.

Aaron's head snapped up instantly.

That Alpha-instinct click. The same way a trained dog hears its master's whistle.

"Yes?"

His tone was sharp, eager. Eyes bright like she'd just given him oxygen.

Krishna smirked to herself, flicking lazily to the next meme on her phone without even glancing his way.

Then finally… with a dramatic little sigh… she tossed the phone to the floor beside the couch.

Stretching slow and deliberate, she arched her back just enough to make his gaze falter, eyes dipping low for a split second before jerking back up like he hadn't just stared.

"Congratulations," she said at last, voice syrupy-sweet with underlying mischief.

Aaron blinked, confused.

"For… what?"

Rolling onto her side, Krishna propped her chin into her palm and grinned, lazy, slow, and wicked.

Like she'd been planning this announcement all day.

"You're officially my first errand dog."

Silence.

Aaron just stared at her for a second.

Like he wasn't sure if she was joking…

Or testing him…

Or both.

And then…

Like some delayed computer finally booting back to life…

A slow, stupid smile started to creep across his face.

It started small, tugging at the corner of his mouth, then bloomed into something bright and utterly pleased.

Unmistakably… proud.

"Errand… dog?" he repeated, like the words tasted far sweeter than they should.

"Mhm." Krishna yawned, one hand lazily twirling a strand of her hair.

"My first one. Makes you special. Kinda like…" she paused, pretending to think, "...like an ugly keychain you didn't want but keep on your bag anyway. Sentimental. Annoying. Hard to throw away."

Aaron's brows pulled tight for a second, trying to decide if that was affection… or just an elaborately wrapped insult.

Honestly?

With Krishna… it was both.

But the light dusting of red that crawled up his ears said enough.

"If it means I get to stay close to you…" Aaron murmured, voice dropping low and reverent, "…you can call me whatever you want."

Krishna let out a short, amused laugh.

"Look at you," she teased, reaching out and ruffling his hair like he was some overgrown golden retriever who'd finally learned a trick.

"Didn't think you'd wag your tail over crumbs, Triton."

Aaron's throat bobbed in a tight swallow. But he didn't argue.

Not when she was touching him.

Not when she was claiming him.

Her gaze sharpened with something darker… warmer… almost possessive.

Her fingers curled into the collar of his shirt… then slipped lower… grabbing hold of his collar with two sharp tugs, yanking him close until their noses nearly brushed.

"Listen carefully, dog," she whispered, voice low and edged with iron.

"Now that I've claimed you… you're mine. You get that?"

Aaron's breathing hitched.

His lips parted.

"Yes… ma'am," he answered, hoarse… raw… like the words came from somewhere deeper than pride.

"Good boy." Her voice softened with something dangerously close to fondness…

Before she shoved him back by the forehead with a flick of her wrist.

Aaron blinked, catching his balance like a scolded puppy who still wanted to stay at her feet.

Krishna flopped back onto her couch with dramatic flair, stretching like she'd just declared war and won.

"Now…" she sighed, waving one hand lazily, "Go get me a drink. I'm parched from all this emotional labor."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Aaron scrambled up immediately, nearly tripping over a stack of boxes in his rush toward the kitchen.

Krishna cracked one eye open… watched him for half a second…

Then grinned quietly to herself.

Her dog.

Her property.

Her problem.

And hell would freeze before she let anyone else play with her toys.