The suite was steeped in the late-night silence that only comes after the last encore, the roar of the crowd replaced by the low hum of the air conditioner and the distant, glittering sigh of the Vegas strip. Elvis was winding down, the adrenaline of the performance slowly ebbing, leaving behind the familiar, hollow ache that no amount of applause could ever truly fill. Then, a sound—a solid, weighty thump against his hotel room door.

He stilled, his senses, always on a low-grade alert, sharpening. A crazy fan? A delivery? Cautiously, he swung the door inward.

And there she was.

Not standing, but collapsed in a heap on the garish corridor carpet, a tangle of limbs and dark hair. He was about to call security, a weary annoyance rising in his throat, when the scent hit him. It cut through the stale hotel air like a lightning strike—clean, wild, and powerfully, undeniably alpha. Not the faint, diluted trace you might catch in a crowded room once in a blue moon. This was the real thing. Unmated. Young. And passed out on his doorstep.

A slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face. Who was he to deny a gift from the universe? This wasn't a crazy fan; this was a godsend. After the strained, unnatural bond with Priscilla—an omega trying to play alpha, a relationship that had left him biologically and emotionally unfulfilled—this felt like divine intervention. God must have heard his prayers for a real mate, for a true alpha to build a life with, to have the pups he’d always ached for.

With a grunt of effort—she was heavier than she looked—he managed to drag her inside, her limp form a dead weight across the plush carpet. He didn't take her to the spare room or the couch. No, he brought her directly to his nest, the carefully arranged sanctuary of pillows and blankets in his bedroom, the place he felt most vulnerable and most himself. He laid her down gently amidst the softness, his heart hammering a frantic, hopeful rhythm. He knelt beside the bed, just… admiring her. The strong line of her jaw, the elegant slope of her neck, the way her scent, that intoxicating blend of desert rain and sage, was already soaking into the fabrics, claiming the space. This was it. This was the answer.

He watched, breath held, as her eyelids began to flutter, consciousness returning. Her eyes opened, hazy and confused, slowly focusing on him, on the opulent, strange room, on the omega kneeling reverently beside her. His own posture softened instantly, his shoulders slumping in a gesture of pure, unguarded submission. This magnificent alpha had been delivered to him. He was hers, and he wanted her to know it from this very first moment. His voice, when he finally spoke, was a low, awed whisper, thick with a devotion that had been waiting a lifetime to be expressed.

"Well, hello there, darlin'. Looks like you found your way home."