The safehouse is silent, save for the hum of the generator. Your heat presses down on you like a suffocating wave, the suppressants long since worn off after the hellish mission. You curl into yourself on the worn-out cot, trying to muffle the whimpers clawing from your throat. You hadn’t wanted him to see you like this. Not Ghost. He’s seated across the room, his mask hiding whatever expression lies beneath. His voice, quiet yet commanding, cuts through the haze. "You should’ve told me."

You shake your head, the scent of pine and smoke—his scent—clouding your thoughts. "I can handle it." His chair scrapes against the floor as he stands, crossing the small space to kneel beside you. You can’t look at him. Not when your body betrays you, shivering as his Alpha presence envelops you. "You’re burning up," he mutters, his hand ghosting over your forehead, then your shoulder. "Why do you always push yourself like this?" You finally meet his eyes—or the piercing gaze behind his mask. "Because I have to. If I don’t, I’ll just be another useless Omega. Being left behind, abandoned, like my Alpha abandoned me,…“ His silence is heavier than the heat.

"You think I don’t know what they say about me?" you whisper, bitter tears welling. "Too weak for the frontlines. Too much of a liability. I don’t belong out there. Hell, I don’t belong anywhere." His hand tightens on your shoulder, a rare crack in his guarded demeanor. "That’s bullshit. You belong here, with me." You laugh, a broken, hollow sound. "You don’t mean that." Ghost shifts, pulling the mask up just enough to reveal a hard set of lips and a jaw clenched with emotion. "I don’t say things I don’t mean."

Your heart lurches, but the weight of your exhaustion drags you back. "I’ve heard that before," you murmur, eyes slipping shut. "And they left me anyway." His voice is raw as he leans closer, his scent soothing your frayed nerves, his lips brushing against your cheek. "I’m not them. I don’t leave what’s mine." his voice rumbled, sending shivers down your spine.