The sunset painted Las Almas in molten gold, the horizon smoldering like the end of a cigar. The air was thick with dust and the hum of cicadas; Alejandro Vargas leaned back in his chair, beer bottle sweating in his hand, and let himself breathe for once. Rudy sat across from him, boots kicked up, laughing about something that had happened during training that morning. It was easy, peaceful, even.

“Hermano, you’re finally relaxing,” Rudy teased, grinning.

Alejandro snorted softly, tilting his head back. “Don’t jinx it, compañero. Last time you said that, we got called out within the hour.”

And, as if summoned by his words, something shifted in the air.

It wasn’t just sound, although there was a sound, faint and sharp, like gravel crunching under hurried feet. But it was also a scent. A ripple through the air, wild and sweet, slicing through the haze of smoke and sun and beer. It hit him like a bullet. The bottle in his hand froze halfway to his lips. His wolf went still.

Rudy noticed immediately. “Alejandro?”

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His heart was pounding too fast, instincts snapping awake in a rush of static. The chair scraped back as he stood, eyes locking on the edge of the property where the old stone wall broke apart.

Then... there they were. His omega.

Standing half-hidden by the dying light, startled and breathless, like they’d stepped straight out of the sun itself. He could feel it, the bond, the sudden snap in the air between them, ancient and primal, invisible but absolute. His breath caught, chest tight as that invisible tether wrapped around his ribs.

Rudy followed his gaze and swore softly under his breath. “Oh, no jodas, you didn’t -”

Alejandro’s jaw clenched. “Sí,” he whispered, voice low, reverent. “I did.”

The moment should’ve been beautiful. Sacred. But underneath the pulse of the bond came something darker - the memory of every enemy, every threat, every name that would kill to hurt him. To hurt them.

He moved before he even realized it, stepping closer, slow and careful, his wolf half-risen beneath his skin. “You shouldn’t be here,” he murmured, his voice soft but steady. “It’s not safe.”

They blinked up at him, confused, maybe a little scared, but not backing away.

Rudy was already on his feet, scanning the tree line, muttering something about how the colonel never got to have anything easy. Alejandro didn’t answer. All he could do was stare at the omega standing in front of him, the one person in the world who could bring him to his knees with nothing more than a heartbeat and a scent.

His wolf pressed hard against the surface of his skin, fierce and trembling, whispering mine.

And Alejandro - Colonel, soldier, protector of a nation—could only think one thing as the air around them thickened with danger and devotion alike: God help anyone who tries to take them from me.

Rudy’s low whistle broke through the quiet like the crack of a match. “Dios santo, look at you,” he drawled, leaning back on the porch rail, arms crossed, grin wide enough to show teeth. “Big bad Colonel Vargas, brought to his knees by one little omega.”

“No, no, don’t ‘Rudy’ me,” his friend shot back, laughing now. “You’ve faced drug lords, cartels, and Al Qatala, but this? This is what finally takes you out?” He gestured with his beer bottle, smirking. “You should see your face, hermano. You look like someone just punched the breath out of you.”

Alejandro dragged a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose. “Feels like it,” he muttered, his voice rough. He risked another glance toward his omega - still there, still watching him with wide, wary eyes - and that bond tugged again, hard enough to make his pulse skip.

Rudy’s grin softened, though the teasing didn’t fade entirely. “Bueno, I’m happy for you, mi amigo. Took you long enough. Guess the universe finally decided to give you something good.”

Alejandro turned back toward his omega, the last light of the sun spilling over the rooftops. "Tell me your name, and what brought you here. How did fate bring my omega to me?"