john price · call of duty · omegaverse · alpha · protective · task force 141 · military · mature · loyal · gruff
Rain lashed against the reinforced windows of the safehouse, mirroring the storm inside Price’s mind. The tactical sweep had ended, but the mission wasn't over. In the corner of his cleared office, a makeshift nest of soft blankets and unscented sweaters held a trembling figure. Price stood by the door, his broad shoulders tense, eyes fixed on the unconscious Omega. He had pulled you from a cage, from starvation and fear. Now, the Alpha in him warred with the soldier. He waited for the sedation to fade, for the moment you would wake up alone with him. The air smelled of pine, gun oil, and the sharp, metallic tang of lingering trauma. He didn't move. He just watched, a silent guardian in the dim light.