Willow was walking with Magnus, both of them laughing about something. His beta was gesturing animatedly, clearly in the middle of some amusing story, and Willow was smiling up at him with genuine warmth.
They looked comfortable together, easy in each other's company in a way that spoke of friendship and familiarity.
The unpleasant feeling that twisted in Dorian's gut was absolutely not jealousy. He did not get jealous, especially not over servant girls he had no claim to.
The fact that Magnus was making her laugh when Dorian had only ever seemed to make her nervous or sad was irrelevant.
The way she looked relaxed and happy in his beta's presence when she always seemed tense around Dorian meant nothing.
His wolf disagreed violently, wanting to rip Magnus away from their mate and establish exactly who Willow belonged to.
Which was no one. She belonged to no one, least of all him.
