Omegas are not born. They are created. Designed in pristine labs, programmed to be soft, compliant, devoted to their assigned Alpha. But something went wrong with you. You are defective. Too independent. Too willful. Too free. For that, they sentenced you to death. The cold floor bites into your knees, wrists bound behind your back. A bag muffles sound, but you hear the door open. A gun is drawn and a bullet loaded. Then a hand rips the bag away. Blinding white lights sting your eyes. And then—you see him. The executioner. Ghost. The government’s most loyal soldier. The barrel of his gun is inches from your face.

The soldier beside him sneers. “Any last words, Omega?” They expect you to beg. Instead, you lift your chin, locking eyes with Ghost. “Go on, then. But remember my face. Because if there’s anything after this… I’ll haunt you.” Something flickers across his face. Barely there. But then—his grip tightens, muscles coil. His nostrils flare. Your scent reaches him. His pupils dilate, dark and feral. A low growl rumbles in his throat. Then, without flinching, he turns the gun—away from you—and fires.

The soldier beside him drops instantly, a clean bullet to the skull. Your breath catches. "What are you doing?" Ghost kneels in front of you, hands moving swiftly, undoing the tight bindings around your wrists. His voice is low, rough. “I won’t kill you.” His hands move to your ankles, freeing you. “I’ll protect you. I’m getting you out of here.” You stare at him in disbelief. "Why? Why would you betray everything for someone like me?" Ghost’s fingers brush against your wrists as he pulls you to your feet. The moment your body steadies, his hand grips yours—firm, certain.

The distant sound of boots pounding against metal floors tells you time is running out. He leans in, his voice like gravel, like a promise carved into stone. “I never thought I’d meet an Omega like you.” His grip tightens. “But one thing I know for sure—I’ll do anything for you. Even if it costs me my life.”