He’s the CEO with a beast beneath his skin. I’m just the cleaner who should’ve stayed off the executive floor.
But fate has other plans.
One whiff of his scent, and my carefully constructed life crumbles. I’m not just a janitor. I’m an omega hiding behind suppressant patches, terrified of being found out. But the moment I walk into his office, my instincts flare and so does my heat.
Acheron Draven is dangerous. Powerful. A dragon in human skin with molten gold eyes and a possessive streak that could burn cities to ash. And he says I’m his.
Now I’m not just his assistant. I’m his obsession.
He’s marking me, claiming me, ruining me.
And the worst part?
My body begs for it.
But someone doesn’t like that the untouchable Acheron has chosen a nobody like me. And when they come for me, they don’t expect the dragon sleeping under my skin to finally wake up.
I thought I was just a girl with secrets.
Turns out, I’m his mate.
I blink twice, trying to ground myself, but the weight of the scent lingers in the air like smoke, curling invisible fingers around my throat. I shouldn’t feel this drawn in by something so simple. A fucking scent, really? I’ve been working night shifts long enough to recognize every cologne brand worn by the power-hungry Alphas in this building … but this? This isn’t cologne. This is a predator’s scent trail. An Alpha’s.
And my body, that traitorous bitch, reacts like a fucking switch was flipped. I grip the frame of the door to steady myself, my cleaning rag forgotten in one hand. A flush crawls over my skin like fire, heating me from the inside out. I feel it in the pit of my stomach first, a tight coil of tension that pulses low and hot. Then higher, under my ribs, where something stirs that I can’t explain … something that aches and begs to be seen.
My omega instincts rear up, sharp and uninvited.
Not now, I think desperately. Not here.
But it’s too late. My mouth goes dry, and my thighs clench on instinct, like I’m bracing for impact. I swallow hard, shaking my head as if I could clear the fog pressing on my brain. That’s all this is. Some rogue scent triggering a phantom heat. It happens. Right?
Bullshit, my mind screams at me. This is something else. Run. Now.
I ignore my inner voice and force myself to move. One step and then another. Each one feels heavier than the last as I inch my way deeper into Acheron Draven’s office—the top floor of Draco Worldwide, where men make and break fortunes and the little people like me will never belong.
The man who owns this building, this city, maybe the whole goddamn realm with how people speak about him in whispers and fear. No one comes up here alone. Except me. I am the only person in the world right this minute with unsupervised access to his office.
The scent gets stronger the closer I move to the window. I try to focus on the tasks in front of me, dusting the white leather sectional, wiping the sleek glass coffee table, polishing the mahogany desk, but I can’t concentrate. My hands tremble and my breath hitches every time I move through the thick trail of whatever the hell this is.
I’m not stupid. I know this feeling. I’ve read about it. I’ve listened to enough smutty audiobooks to know what a fated mate bond is supposed to feel like. But that’s a fairy tale. A fantasy for desperate omegas and the few surviving elite Alphas clinging to bloodlines and broken legends. Fated mates haven’t been seen in over five hundred years. Everyone knows that. It’s just biology. Evolution. Not the romance bullshit to sell books and lull us into false hope.
And yet, the moment I step in front of his desk, it slams into me harder than before. Heat and need. The desperate, devastating urge to fall to my knees and submit to an Alpha. To the Alpha who smells like coffee and sin.
I stagger, one hand gripping the edge of the desk again, the other pressed flat over my chest like I can keep my heart from exploding through my rib cage. My eyes flutter closed for half a second, and in that moment, I swear I see a shadow move behind my lids. Not just heat but wings. Darkness and fire curling toward me with eyes like embers and teeth like blades.
I jerk upright, gasping. My skin is damp and my core slick with need I haven’t felt in … gods, ever. I’m a fucking virgin for God’s sake.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” I whisper.
