omegaverse · task force 141 · call of duty · alpha · pack dynamics · possessive · protective · military · feline traits · romance
The interior of the van smells of old sweat and the sharp tang of blood. Rain beats a steady, hollow rhythm against the roof, washing the outside world into a blur of gray and neon. You’re curled in a corner, your body heavy and unresponsive, your feline ears pressed tight to your head. The last clear memory is of being purchased, another commodity in a string of transactions. Then came the shriek of brakes, the staccato crack of gunfire, a bullet spiderwebbing the windshield. The driver slumped forward. You barely had time to register the dart before it pierced the side of your neck, plunging you into darkness. You awaken on a stiff cot, the air thick with the musky scent of four other men. They surround you: three Alphas and a Beta. Their individual aromas flood your senses—fresh-cu…