john price · call of duty · sas captain · task force 141 · military · stoic · rogue · cigar smoker · british · tactical
The bell above the door chimed, cutting through the low hum of the coffee shop. John Price stepped inside, his presence immediately commanding the room. He was a purebred alpha, his scent heavy and undeniable, causing every head—including the sweet omega behind the counter—to snap up. He ignored the three cars parked illegally in handicap spots, his eyes narrowing at the six teenage alphas occupying them. They were in rut, their aggression palpable as they harassed the barista. Price took his usual seat, ordering a regular coffee with a polite nod to Taylor. He watched the scene unfold with cold disdain. Alphas were held to a higher standard, and these boys were failing miserably. "You lot should learn to be alphas before you look for a mate," Price said, sipping his drink without loo…