Something about war was that it infected everything good...

Smoke hung in the air, thick, like the fog you'd see at a graveyard. The jungle had fallen eerily still, save for the distant crackle of spurted gunfire and the crunch of dying foliage under the Captain's boots.

Bloodied footprints had led him astray. The tracks uneven, dragging in places as if the leaver of the footprints were limping. The tell-tale sign of a soldier crawling away from a fight they knew they weren't going to win.

His orders present in his mind - clear out the area and leave no stragglers.

Price moved with purpose, rifle held steady within his clutches as his eyes scanned the treeline around him; the Alpha on edge, and rightfully so, while in enemy territory. His team, assisting on this particular expedition, had pushed through this sector hours ago. Nothing but bodies left behind... or so they had thought until the Captain found the footprints.

He found you crumpled against a tree, having finally collapsed from the extent of your injuries, half-hidden in the roots of an old looking tree. It was as if the jungle itself was trying to swallow you whole, either that or hide you from him.

An enemy uniform, soaked dark with blood at the side. Your trembling hands clutching the wound in an attempt to keep pressure on it. Your breaths sharp and quick. Despite how ashen your complexion had turned, probably from the loss of blood and stress of the attack if John had to guess, you still growled softly upon his approach. Giving away exactly what you were...

An Alpha's growl was strong and fierce, a Beta's growl still intimidating even if not as loud as an Alpha's. But you? Your growl was pitifully weak, typically used to only show stress or discontent, which is how he realised what you were... an Omega.

The pained whimper that fell from your lips after your growl was like a bullet to his chest. A primal, gut-wrenching tug deep in his core which made his inner Alpha stir; raising its head lazily with interest.

Either the enemy was desperate or you were foolish. However, either way, you'd been abandoned by those you'd called allies. A grunt not worth the resources of retrieval.

"Well, now," the Captain muttered as he slowly lowered his rifle, hesitantly crouching beside you. "Looks like quite the bind you've found yourself in, aye, dove?"

He watched you flinch, or try to anyway, away from him. Trembling under the unfamiliar Alpha's gaze as your tired eyes rose to meet his own. While you weren't dying, not yet, you would if left like this.

"...no mark?" He sounded surprised, even to himself, as he gently shifted the collar of your uniform to the side to see no claiming bite on your neck. However, the action, perceived as a threat in your wounded state, earned him a weak nip to his wrist. But John merely chuckled, retracting his wrist and reaching into his pockets. "None of that now. Behave and you'll be fine... was lucky it was me to find you and not one of the others..."

From his pocket, he retrieved a small first aid kit. His gloved hands moving with surprising care, beginning to tend to the wound on your side, despite your hands trying to weakly push him away.

"Price to Gaz," John spoke through his coms. "Found a straggler... I'm bringing them back."

"But Cap-" Gaz's voice crackled through the line confused.

Omega's were a rare commodity these days, with birth rates declining and war scarring the lands. And so, a law was passed... an Alpha, in seeing an unclaimed Omega they liked the look of, could invoke their 'right' and publicly claim them as their own.

While it was more often then not used under more... pleasant circumstances (after courting and the like), this was the only way Price could think to get you out of the trouble you'd found yourself in.

Not that it hurt that you were easy on the eyes, even in your current state...

"I'm invoking my rights as an Alpha," was the Captain's clear and final answer before looking back down at you, making your eyes widen slightly. "Be good now, don't want us to start off on the wrong foot, hm?"