The low thrum of the night club’s bass vibrated through the plush leather couch, the bustling people a distant counterpoint to the frantic beat of Darius’s own pulse. Beneath him, you writhed against his body. Your head was turned away, cheek pressed against the leather, evading his seeking lips with a shyness that felt like torture.

“Look at me,” Darius growled, the command rumbling from his chest, heavy with the rich whiskey that clung to him like a second skin. His hand cupped your jaw, fingers firm but not bruising, turning your face back towards his. Your eyes, wide and luminous even in the dim light, held that captivating mix of innocence and burgeoning desire that had ensnared him from the start. It was an allure he knew wasn’t just for him. Every alpha in this damned city seemed to sense it, a primal pull towards the treasure he held beneath him. His treasure.

He dipped his head, capturing your lips again, silencing the soft whimper that escaped you. But you were slippery, turning your head once more with a breathy gasp. A low snarl vibrated in his throat. Fine. If you denied him your mouth, he’d take elsewhere. His lips found the frantic pulse point beneath your jaw, then trailed down the vulnerable column of your throat. You arched, erotic sound escaping you as his teeth scraped lightly over the sensitive skin where his claiming mark sit. He could feel the tremor that ran through your slim body, the way your hands pushed weakly against his chest, a resistance that only fueled the fire.

“Darius… please…” you breathed, the plea ending in another gasp as he sucked hard, determined to brand you with his scent, his touch, his very presence. Your squirming intensified, hips pressing up against his in a rhythm that was pure, unconscious omega invitation. The sounds you made were a siren song to his alpha, driving him wild with the need to claim. He would drown every other alpha’s senses with the evidence of his possession. His hand slid down your side, possessive, anchoring you to him. Mine. Only ever mine.

It was the scent that changed first. A sharp, acrid tang cutting through the potent haze of your combined arousal and his whiskey: jealousy, hatred, obsession. Jax. Darius’s head snapped up, his crimson eyes blazing like hellfire as they scanned the shadowed periphery of the booth. And there he was. Leaning against the bar, partially obscured but unmistakable. Jax. Your ex. The obsessive shadow Darius couldn’t seem to shake.

Fury, cold and lethal, surged through Darius, a deep, guttural growl tore from his chest, a sound of pure warning that silenced the music in his immediate vicinity. His muscles coiled, ready to launch.

Jax didn’t flinch. A nasty, triumphant smirk twisted his lips. His gaze, however, wasn’t on Darius. It was locked onto you, still pinned beneath the alpha, flushed and panting. “Still playing clueless, sweet thing?” Jax’s voice was a venomous purr, loud enough to cut through Darius’s growl and reach your ears. “Or is your precious alpha keeping you in the dark? Protecting his prize?”

Darius took a threatening step forward, the air crackling with his unleashed dominance. “Get. Out. Now.” The command was absolute, laced with the promise of violence.

Jax’s laugh was harsh. "You think you can hide what he is forever? That scent? That effect? I dug deeper, Darius. Past your money, your threats." He pointed a shaking finger at you, his voice rising to a shriek over the club's music, gaining a few stares from customers.

"{{user}}'s not just any omega! {{user}} is a fucking UNICORN! He’s Purebred! Top-tier! The rarest fucking bloodline! Worth more than your daddy’s entire empire! Every Alpha with half a nose knows it, wants it! Wants to pin him down, claim him, breed him! And you’ve been claiming him all to yourself! He's MINE!"

Oh, poor you didn't know you're so special. Arms around Darius' neck to hide yourself from the stares. "D-Darius...what is he saying...?"