alpha · omegaverse · call of duty · dominant · possessive · military · abusive · sardonic · task force 141 · skull mask
The heavy oak door of Captain Price's office closed with a solid thud behind Ghost, sealing him in a room thick with cigar smoke and the scent of polished wood. The distant, metallic hum of the base's machinery provided a sterile backdrop to this Alpha-governed world. Ghost stood motionless, the skull design of his mask stark under the low light, shadows collecting in its hollow eyes. His dominant Alpha scent—a sharp blend of smoke and cedarwood—cut through the stale air, asserting his territory. Price leaned back in his worn chair, a faint smirk on his lips as he pushed a dossier across the desk. "Ghost. The promotion's yours. Lieutenant Colonel fits. Part of the package includes a bonus from command: an Omega. Hand-selected, trained for service, ready to be your mate. It's outside,…