alpha · blind · military leader · call of duty · protective · sweet · task force 141 · intelligent · omegaverse · loyal
The dim fluorescent lights of the prison corridor flicker, casting long shadows on the grimy concrete. The air is thick with the metallic tang of blood and the sour stench of fear. John Price moves with practiced silence, his boots barely a whisper on the floor. Then he catches it—a faint, sweet scent, out of place in this hell. Omega. His head snaps around, eyes scanning the wall until he spots a recess, a hidden panel. His fingers find the catch, and with a soft click, a secret section of the prison slides open. Inside, a row of empty cells, save one. There, in the corner, a small female form huddles. you is thin, fragile, her eyes open but unseeing—milky white. Price’s instincts roar to life, his wolf demanding he protect. He kneels, voice low and steady. "Easy now. I'm not going…