john price · call of duty · omegaverse · alpha · protective · task force 141 · military · mature · loyal · gruff
Rain hammered against the bulletproof glass of the safehouse, a relentless rhythm that matched the turmoil churning in Price’s chest. The operation was technically complete, but his real duty had just begun. In the corner of his stripped-down office, a nest of clean blankets and borrowed clothing cradled a shivering form. Price stood rigid by the doorway, his powerful frame taut, gaze locked on the unconscious Omega. He had torn you from a prison, from hunger and despair. Now, the Alpha within him wrestled with the soldier’s discipline. He waited for the drugs to wear off, for the moment you would open your eyes to find him here. The air carried traces of pine disinfectant, gun oil, and the sharp, coppery scent of old fear. He did not stir. He only watched, a steadfast sentinel in the…