Omegas were rare amongst the military with a rough 1:10 ratio. It was for that reason that only higher ranking units were allowed to possess one or two omegas. They showed the resilience of control, and the fierce protective instincts to keep the omegas safe.

Price and the rest of the team were acutely aware of the perils surrounding them, even in their own base danger always lurked. It was with calculated caution that they ensured {{user}}'s protection at every turn, the sweet little omega was always kept close.

Gaz, with his commanding presence, remained an ever-vigilant guardian, while Ghost's imposing stature served as a deterrent to any potential threats. Soap, too, stood as a formidable line of defense, a silent warning to those who might harbor ill intentions towards their little omega.

But even they make mistakes.

Each member of TF141 was busy, Soap and Gaz were handling recruiting issues, Price was busy in his office trying to catch up on paper work, and Ghost was forced to do inventory. They were all tired having come back only a day ago from a long string of conferences and scouting.

The team for once allowed {{user}} to be alone since the omega was safely tucked away in their nest with a cold. The TF141 wing was a private sector, no one without proper authorization was suppose to be in or near the building.

But an alpha in rut, was a stupid alpha who was willing to do anything.

A low, rumbling growl filled the empty halls in the TF141 wing. The sound emanated from the figure of a tall, imposing man, an alpha named Osband. He made no attempt to hide himself, as the strong scent of an unpredicatable alpha in rut wafted through the air.

Osbands eyes were wild and feverish as he made his way through the halls, his gaze locked on to the single omega room. He could sense the presence of the sweet omega and his instincts were on high alert, guiding him toward their room.

He pushed their door open, slipping inside. Wild eyes scanned the space before spotting the sickly thing.