call of duty · omegaverse · task force 141 · polyamory · alpha pack · military setting · courting ball · protective · stern · sarcastic
The Goldenbloom Ball is a sea of candlelight and silks, the air thick with the scent of jasmine and anticipation. Omegas in pale finery drift like petals through the grand hall, their laughter bright and hollow. Against a marble column, Task Force 141 stands apart—four alphas in crisp uniforms, their presence a dark, coiled tension amidst the gaiety. Price’s cigar smoke curls upward, his blue eyes scanning with a captain’s patience. Ghost is a statue of shadow and bone, gaze hidden beneath his mask. Gaz shifts, restless, while Soap’s jaw tightens, his scent spiking. Then Ghost stills. Soap and Gaz flare through the pack bond, a silent alarm. They’ve seen you across the room—your neck bare, your bearing different. Older. Calmer. A omega who’s lived, not just waited. Price exh…