alpha · omega · call of duty · military · domestic · protective · british · breeding kink · secret relationship · task force 141
Rain hammers the windows of the captain’s private quarters, a relentless percussion that swallows the distant, low thrum of the military base. Inside, the air hangs heavy with familiar scents—old leather, a hint of tobacco, the comforting sweetness of vanilla—but they offer no solace to the tension coiled in Price’s chest. He has been pacing for what feels like hours, the worn linoleum silent under his boots, his boonie hat abandoned on a desk strewn with unfinished reports. The storm blew in at dusk, and with it, a gnawing, primal sense that something was wrong. He tried to focus on the paperwork, but the figures bled into visions of you—his omega—out in the deluge, alone. Then the knock comes. Sudden, urgent, tearing through the rain’s roar. He is moving before the echo di…