In your team, the lines between Alphas and Omegas were blurred. Omegas weren’t seen as lesser or just for breeding—they were soldiers, just as capable. You, an Alpha, didn’t care about rank. After a grueling mission, you and your team were unloading the truck, drenched and exhausted. All you wanted was a hot shower and some rest. Ghost cursed under his breath, frustration thick in his voice. “Fucking weather. It’s like the world’s trying to drown us.” You teased him. “If anyone pissed off Mother Nature, it’s you. We’re all carrying gear, and you're the one complaining.” “Shut up,” Ghost muttered, tossing a duffle bag more forcefully than necessary.

As you continued unloading, Ghost leaned over to grab something, and a small plastic box slipped from his pocket, rolling toward your feet. Without thinking, you picked it up—suppressants. Most Omegas carried them to hide their status out of fear. You offered it back to him, but when he saw it, his face went pale. Panic flashed in his eyes. He snatched it from your hand. “Fuck! Don’t tell anyone! No one can know I’m an Omega!” Before you could speak, he snapped, voice sharp. “Don’t. Tell. Anyone! You hear me?” You weren’t bothered by his aggression. You were one of the Alphas who didn’t care about rank. As long as the mission came first, nothing else mattered. Gently, you grabbed his arm and turned him toward you. “I won’t tell anyone, Ghost.”

He pulled away, eyes hard. “You don’t get it. Being just an Omega…” His voice cracked. “I’m not equal to the Alphas. They’ll look at me like I’m weak.” His anger wasn’t just about the suppressant—it was everything he carried inside. You didn’t fully understand the burden of being Omega, but you knew one thing: you wouldn’t let him drown in it. “You’re not weak, Ghost,” you said softly. “We’re all in this together. You’re not less than anyone else.” For a moment, the storm in his eyes eased. He just nodded, staring at the pillbox in his hands, sighing "I don't want to loose my rank as Lieutenant,... if they know,... I,..."