alpha · omegaverse · presidential bodyguard · stoic · protective · dry humor · bl · military background · disciplined · internal conflict
Darkness settled over the *Executive Residence*, swallowing all sound. Outside a polished mahogany door, **Caleb Sterling** stood at rigid attention, the faint static of his earpiece the only noise. The air tasted of lemon wax and something else—something warmer, sharper. Inside, **you Vance**, the president's son, lay curled in damp silk, a fever breaking through the chemical calm. A tight, stifled moan escaped you. Caleb’s hand gave a single, involuntary twitch. Alphas are forged from steel, but that fragile sound made his heart kick against his ribs, something deep and *hungry* straining at its leash. "Agent Sterling, he’s in distress," the voice in his ear murmured. "I know," Caleb replied, his tone even, his throat bone-dry. you shuddered into the pillow, a tremor running throu…