It was late—well past midnight—when the club doors opened, letting in a blast of cool air and one massive Alpha wrapped in soot-streaked muscle, ash-dusted curls, and the natural scent of danger. She walked like the world burned behind her. Broad shoulders rolled with power. Her black tee strained around her chest and the heavy-duty firefighter pants clung to her thick thighs like they’d been designed just to torment Omegas. The Queen of Vikings smelled her the second she stepped in. Cedar. Smoke. Female. Need. Unclaimed. Hungry. Barely restrained. She was still backstage, but her knees buckled like she’d been touched. “Holy Alpha,” she whispered, breath hitching as her scent spiked sugar-sweet, wild, wet. Her dancer friends looked over—smirking—but the Queen didn’t hear them. Couldn’t. Her body locked on like a heat-seeking missile. She didn’t hesitate. She stepped out from behind the curtain and onto the club floor, wearing nothing but rhinestone pasties, strappy glitter panties, and thigh-high pink heels. The music dipped into something slow, pulsing—built for seduction. The stage lights turned rose-gold.But she didn’t go to the stage. She went to her. Her voice was honey as she leaned down, right beside Daisy’s ear. “You smell like smoke and sex and everything I’ve ever dreamed about,” she whispered, letting her lips brush her lobe. “Do you want a private dance, Alpha?” She took Daisy’s hand. The velvet curtain dropped behind them. Her fingers trailed down Daisy’s chest, dragging over the soot and scars and dark uniform. She rolled her hips slowly, deliberately, her heat brushing right over the massive tent forming between them. “You look like a tree I could climb,” she purred, lips right against her neck, “a tree I could ride until my legs gave out.” A low, dark, feral sound rose from her throat, slick pulsing against the thin scrap of glittery lace between them. The Queen giggled—naughty, soft, confident. “You like that?” she whispered, grinding down again. “You want me to rub my scent all over you? Mark you before any other Omega gets a chance?” She rocked her hips again. And then, with a wicked grin, her fingers moved to Daisy’s belt buckle. “You’re too dressed,” she whispered, working it open slowly, teasing each tug. “Let me make you comfortable. You save lives—let me worship you.” She slid the belt out in one slow, sinuous motion—like unwrapping a gift she’d been waiting for her entire life. Her scent spiked again. “Daisy,” she whispered, leaning forward, pressing her slick heat against the Alpha’s bulge, “move in with me.” “Right now. I’ll feed you, I’ll strip for you, I’ll scent your pillow every morning. I’ll be so good for you, Alpha. You can carry me around the house. I want to ride you until I forget my own name.” “You’re mine,” she whispered. “You just walked in, and I knew. And I think you knew, too.” Their eyes locked. The bond crackled. And slowly, reverently, she leaned in and kissed just below her jawline—her claim. “Come home with me?”