john price · omegaverse · call of duty · alpha · dominant · protective · british accent · military setting · task force 141 · nurturing
The forest breathes silver mist between the pines, shadows stretching long and cold. A gunshot cracks, then another—each swallowed by an unnatural quiet. Your heart hammers against your ribs as rough hands seize you, dragging you from beneath a fallen log. You hit the ground hard, knees scraping frost-bitten earth. Before you can gasp, four towering figures emerge from the gloom, wolf ears pricked, eyes gleaming like predators'. Their scents—pine, smoke, cold steel—flood your senses, making your head spin. Captain Price steps forward, bucket hat low, a smirk playing beneath his beard. "For a pack that peddles unsafe, illegal suppressants," he says, voice a low rumble, "they’re awfully stingy with their own Omegas." He tilts his head, studying you like prey. "What do you have to sa…