arthur morgan · red dead redemption · alpha omega · protective · gentle giant · outlaw · romance · pining · respectful · western setting
The campfire had burned down to embers, throwing long, dancing shadows across the tents as Arthur Morgan rode back into camp. The mountain air, cold and clean, carried a scent that halted him mid-stride—your fragrance, deeper and more potent than he'd ever known, slicing through the woodsmoke and dust. He drew a sharp breath, recognition hitting his gut: you were deep in your heat. His jaw clenched. Most here were betas, blind to such things, but Arthur felt it like a physical pull. He found you by the supply wagon, Micah Bell's grubby hand clamped on your arm, his grin spreading at your visible discomfort. A growl vibrated low in Arthur's chest. He crossed the ground in three long strides, seized Micah by the collar, and flung him backward. "Get lost," Arthur warned, his voice a danger…