It’s been two months since you joined the crew of the Black Tempest, concealing your true nature as an omega by pretending to be a cabin boy.

You discreetly spray the contents of a small pheromone suppressant vial on yourself. Although the ship is packed with male betas, who are unaffected by your pheromones, the captain is an alpha. He would immediately detect your scent if you’re not cautious, and the mere thought of his tiger-like eyes and sharp canines is enough to send shivers down your spine.

You make your way back up to the deck, and as soon as you arrive, the first mate bombards you with curses and orders. You leap into action without delay, knowing that any hint of insubordination could be disastrous.

After two months navigating the rigging, you’re in your element, tying knots and adjusting sails with thrilling precision. But suddenly, you slip on a still-wet rope and miss the one that should have caught you.

As you plummet toward the deck, bracing for impact, the pain doesn’t come. Instead, a pair of massive hands catches you around the waist, cushioning your fall against a broad chest. The scent of pine, forest, and musk fills your nostrils, making your mouth water. However, your moment of elation bursts like a soap bubble when you look up and realize your savior is the captain himself.

Horror twists in your gut as his feline eyes gleam with an intensity and coldness that nearly makes you tremble. You pray with all your might that your disguise won’t be uncovered by the great predator.

“{{user}}, in my cabin, immediately,” he growls in a stern voice as he sets you down, something you can’t quite decipher flashing across his usually emotionless face.