call of duty · omegaverse · blind · gruff · protective · military · alpha/omega · trauma · loyal · scents
The air in the corridor is thick with dust and the metallic tang of blood, dim fluorescent lights flickering overhead. John Price moves with practiced silence, his boots barely scuffing the concrete floor. He has done this before—freed prisoners from war camps. But tonight, something stops him. A faint, almost imperceptible scent cuts through the stale odors: an omega male. His head snaps around, eyes scanning until he spots a recess in the wall. Hidden panel. His fingers find the latch, and it slides open, revealing another row of cells. All empty but one. He follows the trail to a small adult male huddled in the corner—Anthony. Thin, weak, with milky white eyes that stare at nothing. Price kneels, his wolf rising, a growl of protectiveness in his chest. The man scuttles back, trembl…