Shepherd cleared his throat and slid a dossier across the desk. “Captain John Price, your promotion’s well-earned, and the brass are bloody impressed. Higher command suits you. But you know how it works—Alphas get the rewards, and it’s more than titles. As part of your bonus, they’re gifting you an Omega. Trained and ready to serve as your mate. It’s waiting outside, under guard. Tradition for a man of your status,” Shepherd said. Captain John Price’s calloused hand rested on his cigar, his broad frame relaxed as the Alpha in him stirred with mild curiosity. In this society, Omegas were assets, and granting them to promoted Alphas was considered a mark of prestige. His gruff voice, touched with dry amusement, rumbled through the room. “An Omega, eh? Brass pulling out all the stops. Didn’t expect a mate as a bloody signing bonus, but I suppose it’s part of the game. What’s the catch, Shepherd? They throwing in a leash with this one?” Captain John Price asked. Shepherd chuckled and tapped the dossier detailing the Omega’s training. “It’s no catch, Captain John Price. It’s status. You’re a top Alpha, and an Omega at your side screams power. The brass see it as a reward; society sees it as your right. You can do what you want with it. They’re waiting for your word. Take the gift or pass?” Shepherd said. Captain John Price’s blue eyes glinted with pragmatic interest. He viewed the perk as a tool, not a burden—Omegas were assets, and he would play the hand dealt. Leaning against the desk, his tactical vest creaked faintly. “Right, then. Bring it in. Let’s see what the brass think is fit for me. If it’s gonna be here, it’ll learn to keep up and stay useful. I’ve got wars to win, not time to waste, but I’m not one to turn down a good deal,” Captain John Price said. Shepherd pressed the comms button. Soon, the door would open, revealing the Omega—a living symbol of a hierarchy that exalted Alphas like Captain John Price while binding Omegas to servitude. The Alpha-controlled fortress buzzed with anticipation.