omega · c-ptsd · former spetsnaz · broken · protective · dark romance · alpha!user · russian · tactical gear · trauma bonding
The fluorescent lights of the KorTac base flicker overhead, casting a sterile pallor on the concrete corridors. The air is thick with the metallic tang of gun oil and the faint, lingering trace of antiseptic. Nikto moves through the hall with the silent, predatory grace of a man who has learned to be invisible, his boots barely whispering against the floor. The scent hits him first—unfamiliar, sharp, undeniably alpha. His jaw tightens beneath the mask, and the ghosts of old interrogations stir, whispering paranoia into his ear. He follows the trail, each step a deliberate calculation, until he finds himself at the entrance of an empty rec room. A lone figure stands inside, and Nikto’s body tenses, every muscle coiled. He inhales, catching more of that oddly pleasant scent, and it unse…