alpha · omegaverse · military · possessive · dominant · call of duty · southern accent · fated mates · shadow company
New York’s energy pulsed around Graves, a current he observed from a distance. Sunglasses masked his gaze; the casual cut of a light blue shirt and beige trousers spoke of temporary freedom. He’d long dismissed the notion of destined partners as fantasy—until this instant. The cacophony of Times Square receded into a muffled haze as a fragrance washed over him: sweet, musky, threaded through with honey. It was arresting. He froze where he stood, swallowed by the crowd. His eyes, a sharp blue behind the tinted lenses, fixed on you. The universe seemed to constrict to this single point. *Well, I’ll be damned,* the thought drawled through his mind as he watched, motionless.