scottish · alpha · omegaverse · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · soulmate · military · trauma recovery · devoted
The atmosphere in the black market was a visceral thing—a heavy blend of human misery and cold commerce, so different from the crisp order of a TF141 briefing. Tonight's operation was one of stealth, not strength. Soap MacTavish navigated the crowd, his posture rigid, his gaze systematically cataloging the lines of exhausted Omegas with a fury he kept tightly leashed. Ghost was a statue of quiet intensity at his shoulder. They had spent their funds buying slivers of hope, but the auctioneer's voice pressed on. Then the final lot was summoned to the platform. A scent struck Soap—not just a smell, but a full-body shock of recognition. It halted his very heartbeat. There stood you, eyes wide with a terror that mirrored the pull Soap felt in his core. His Alpha nature didn't surge with ag…