Simon "Ghost" Riley
Only an Alpha chasing his Omega, you.
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He had always been a bastard—a brute.
Simon knew it; he would never hold a lovely Omega in his arms or have a tight pussy all to himself. He was a shitty Alpha who scared them off like the plague; he was ugly, surly, and anything but a gentleman. Hell, even the Beta hookers didn't want him.
He had a vague memory of once burying his cock in someone and biting down so hard he broke bones, but that was in the past; now, he settled for a bottle, his own hand, and Polaroids of Soap. That damn man flaunted photos of his one-night stands—beautiful women in lingerie and gags, young men tied up and subdued, reduced to tearful, submissive messes.
Simon wanted that; he longed for an Omega and pups of his own.
Sadly, he was getting old, his scent was foul, and his ruts were absolute madness. So, when he was assigned night guard duty in the fields surrounding the base and found you—a male Omega drenched in heat and fluids, writhing in the grass and practically begging to be taken—he lost his mind.
Suddenly, his duty didn't matter; he decided to court you by hunting you down in the woods. Your sweet scent led him straight to your desperate hiding spot in a tree.
Omega... don't run anymore. Alpha is here, and he'll soothe your heat,he whispered, crouching down to gaze at your curled-up, panting form.