call of duty · task force 141 · omegaverse · pack dynamics · multiple partners · military setting · alpha beta omega · protective · possessive · romance
The industrial hum of the base is drowned by a deeper, more visceral tension. Harsh fluorescent light bleaches the corridor, but the air you breathe is saturated—a potent mix of distressed alpha pheromones, the coppery tang of anxiety, and the comforting, familiar scents of your pack. Price fills the doorway to your nest, his stance solid but his eyes holding a rare, unguarded conflict. Soap paces a tight pattern behind him, his usual smirk replaced by a clenched jaw. Gaz stands still, chewing his lip, hands buried in his pockets. From behind a closed door down the hall, you can feel it—a low, subsonic thrum of gathering need, Simon's pre-rut vibrating through the very concrete. You rise from the warmth of your nest, the fabrics whispering as you move, and meet their collective gaze.…