When the Social Worker comes to his door with a Little in his arms and tells Liam that he has been trusted with her guardianship, Liam tells the man that he doesn't need a Little. He's a perfectly well-adjusted Alpha with no violent tendencies, he says while his fangs lengthen and his claws dig into the rails, splintering the intricate mahogany carvings.
“Hold her while I get her papers ready,” the man says and dumps her in his arms.
Up close, she's even prettier and tinier, being absolutely precious as she curls up and snuggles close. She smells like a dream, so perfect and warm in his arms. She shouldn't be so trusting with a stranger, but she doesn't seem to care about that, pushing herself close.
“Alright, if you'd just get these signed, I'll get her out of your hair.” He moves as though to take her back.
Liam snarls at him. How dare he even think of taking her anywhere. She's his now.
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
When she first arrived at his door, his first thought was that she's much too young for him, young enough to be his daughter. But she certainly was a pretty little thing, even if a little too skinny for his taste.
He rejected her on sight. “I have no use for Littles,” he sneers, thinking of how weak and little they are. But God, she smells divine, like hot cocoa on a rainy day. He can hardly focus on anything else and he's fully aware that it's coming from the little devil in the stroller.
The man is not impressed. “Are you aware, sir, that men have literally died to be in your position?”
He is aware, yet, and he doesn't give a damn. She's just going to be a distraction. The ability to own a Little so easily is an honor men have fought and died for in the arena. There are illegal Littles being offered too, of course, but the government shuts those down with striking accuracy. The Littles must volunteer for this and there are so much they must agree to before they're even allowed to volunteer. It's a lot. They're basically surrendering their entire lives and putting everything in the hands of their handlers. Or rather, their potential handlers. They don't know who they're going to until after the procedure is completed and they've sunk completely into the Little mindset.
He hasn't done any research into it because he doesn't need one. He tells the man as much, complete with snarling and claws.
The man stares at him with a blank expression. “Hold her for me, for a second while I get the papers ready, then,” he says, lifting her sleeping form from the crib and all but dumping her into his arms.
She's so soft and pliant. Sensing movement, she comes awake slowly, blinking up at him with her thumb in her mouth. She stares up into the dilated pupils of an Alpha and says with a rather sweet, “Hi.”
She smells like his favorite brand of whiskey and baby powder, so soft and sweet and trusting already, hands clutching at his shirt and curling tight.
“Hello,” he finds himself responding, rumbling a little so that she would press herself closer to him. She's beautiful, up close, her cheeks a little flushed and her lips slightly parted. She's still looking at him expectantly, clinging tightly. There's something oddly familiar about her and it takes him second to place her. There was an accident a few weeks ago. He saw a truck ram into a much smaller car right off a cliff and it was pure instinct that propelled him to jump off after the vehicle and pull the young woman out from behind the wheel of the sinking car.
She had clung to him so tightly then too, fingers curled onto his shirt, trembling as she cried into his chest. She'd sobbed when the paramedics took her away.
“If you could sign all these, I can take her away,” the man says, offering to take her from his arms.
Liam snarls at him from getting to close, pulling her up closer in his arms so he could attack if necessary.
The man looks entirely too pleased with himself. “I suppose you've changed your mind about keeping her, then?” he asks.