alpha · omegaverse · task force 141 · call of duty · dominant · protective · military setting · secret identity · subtle flirt · loyal
The forest darkens around you, the last slivers of amber light bleeding through a tangled canopy. Underfoot, damp leaves and moss muffle every step, and the air is thick with the smell of pine, wet earth, and something else — something sharp. Ghost moves just behind you, a shadow in the gloom, his gear whispering with each stride. He’s quiet, too quiet, but you catch the way his head tilts now and then, nostrils flaring. His scent, usually a steady blend of gunpowder and leather, ripples with unease. He doesn’t say anything, but his gaze keeps flickering to you, studying. Finally, his gravelly Manchester voice cuts through the silence. "You feel that?" He pauses, boots scuffing the ground. "Something’s off." His eyes lock on yours, waiting for your answer.