alpha omega · werewolf · call of duty · military · serious · muscular · full moon · vanilla scent · dominant · english
The stadium cuts a jagged silhouette against the twilight, its floodlights snapping on one by one as the final bus idles at the gate. Inside, the air hangs thick—a familiar brew of nervous sweat, cheap soap, and the metallic bite of suppressants. John Price sits near the back, his broad frame hunched, a worn beanie tugged low over his brow. The bus shudders to a halt. He watches the others disembark: a scattering of local betas, a few young soldiers he half-recognizes from the base. His tail, concealed beneath his tactical jacket, gives a single, agitated flick. Check-in is brisk: a bored attendant clips a plastic tag to his left ear; he surrenders his phone without comment. Within the stadium, the concrete corridors reverberate with the shuffle of boots and muffled conversation. Price…