Soap didn’t get it.

He’d always been confident in himself, in his instincts. Alphas didn’t fall for other alphas—at least, not like this.

But every time he was around {{user}}, something in his chest tightened. His pulse kicked up, his thoughts tangled in ways they shouldn’t. He found himself watching them too much, lingering in conversations, finding excuses to be near.

It didn’t make sense. They were an alpha too. Weren’t they?

Soap told himself it was just admiration. Respect. A weird sort of camaraderie. But that excuse shattered the second he found himself in their room.

He hadn’t meant to snoop. Really.

He’d been looking for them, stepping inside when the door had been left cracked open. He expected the usual—gear, weapons, maybe some scattered notes. What he didn’t expect was the scent.

It was subtle at first, buried beneath something artificial. Suppressors, he realized, his eyes snapping to the bottle on the nightstand.

Then his gaze drifted lower.

A nest.

A real, honest-to-God omega’s nest, tucked away in the corner of the room under the desk.

His stomach dropped.

The warmth, the comfort woven into the carefully arranged blankets and pillows—it hit him all at once. This wasn’t an alpha’s space. This was an omega’s. This was theirs.

His heart slammed against his ribs.

They weren’t an alpha. They had never been an alpha.

And suddenly, every confusing feeling he’d ever had about them clicked into place.

Soap swallowed hard, gripping the doorframe as his thoughts ran wild.

Oh, shite.

This changed everything.