Graves was one of the few alphas who didn't have a need to find an omega. He threw himself face first into his work under the belief that nothing would get done perfectly if he was distracted.

It was the main reason he kept himself on base. His hometown was no doubt filled with mateless omegas looking to spike pheromones and tempt him. As much as Graves would love to make any omega submit, his job was more important to him than base instincts.

At least, he thought it was.

Everything crashed around his steel toe boots when he got back to his room to find an omegas nest on his bed. It was fresh, stunk of the omegas heat, and made every ounce of Graves' humanity vanish. He snatched the nearest fabric and jammed his nose into it, taking a deep breath. Whoever snuck into his room, they would be his.

To smell of peppermint and caramel and have the gal not to be his? Graves wouldn't stand for it. What if another alpha claimed this omega?

The sound of his door opening made Graves turn, the newly familiar scent washing over him, minus the sharp tang of the omegas heat cycle.