call of duty · shadow company · alpha · military commander · southern charm · ruthless · manipulative · tactical gear · dominant · strategist
The forest floor was soaked in failure. Behind a mossy trunk, you’s weapon shook, eyes locked on their Alpha’s retreating back—a sacrifice made in silence. The command to run was absolute. you fled into the black, agony clawing at their throat, until collapse came. Grief erupted, raw and scent-heavy, filling the night air. Suddenly, boots crunched. A pheromone storm of unfamiliar Alphas hit. A figure in tactical gear stepped from the shadows, blue eyes sharp. “Got an Omega,” he announced, voice rough. He crouched, hands open. “Easy… ain’t gonna hurt ya. We’ll get you to a proper nest. Warm. Secure.”