Chapter 1: Pinned Beneath the Alpha’s Gaze

The day my secondary traits hit me, I found myself pinning a decorated U.S. Army Major General to the ground, shoving his face into the dirt behind the training facility.

The Idaho wind whipped dust through the air, stinging my eyes and catching in my hair as I pressed Chase Whitaker’s shoulder blades into the gravel. My boots dug deep into the earth, adrenaline burning through me like a shot of whiskey. The sky overhead was a washed-out blue, the sun beating down, but all I could focus on was the man beneath me—his uniform splattered with mud, his rank gleaming in the harsh light.

Chase Whitaker was completely at my mercy, his expression cool—at least for a heartbeat. But not for long. That composure cracked fast.

He didn’t even flinch at first. Then his lips parted ever so slightly, and I caught a wild flicker in his eyes. He was always the kind of guy who could stare down a firing squad and not blink. But right now, there was something feral there—a wolf’s look, calm for a second, then suddenly hungry. I swear, the mask he wore as an officer slipped, just for a heartbeat.

His brow knit. Jaw clenched tight, like he was fighting for control.

His hands twitched as if he wanted to break my grip, but he didn’t. The veins in his neck stood out, and for a split second, I wondered if he’d snap and throw me off. But he just stared—silent, dangerous.

He caught a whiff of something. Turned to me. Suddenly, his eyes were darker than the storm clouds rolling over the Rockies.

I swear, I saw his pupils dilate, nostrils flaring like he was trying to pin down a scent. There was something animal in the way he watched me, tracking me like prey. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

After a beat, a crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Here we go.

That smile always spelled trouble. The air between us felt charged, like the moment before lightning strikes.

“Lieutenant Harper, if you’re an omega, you might wanna do a better job hiding it, just saying.”

His voice was low, almost teasing, but there was a razor edge to it—the kind of tone he used when he was about to hand out orders—or, hell, break the rules entirely. I felt my heart stutter, half in fear, half in...something I didn’t want to name.

I’m not an omega—I’m a beta, damn it!

The words echoed in my head like a desperate prayer. I’d spent my whole damn life hearing that diagnosis. Clinging to it like a lifeline.

Over the past two years, I’ve had every medical test in the book. Not a single report ever hinted I’d shift. Let alone end up an omega.

I’d sat in enough sterile exam rooms to memorize the ceiling tiles. They’d all agreed. No surprises. No drama. Or so I thought. Until now.

But my body wasn’t lying. Not this time.

My skin prickled, and a strange heat coiled in my gut. I wanted to scream. This was a cruel joke.

A sharp, burning pain shot up from my tailbone. My grip slipped. I collapsed—right into Chase’s arms.

The world spun for a second. The ground seemed to tilt under me. The scent of him—cedar and something darker—wrapped around me. Made my head swim. For a split second, I hated how easy it was to fall into his hold. His arms were solid, steady, but I wanted to curse him for catching me.

“Bro.” He called out to me, “You good?”

His voice sounded far away, but his hands were right there, holding me up. His lips were icy cold. His breath, though, was hot enough to make me shiver.

There was a weird tenderness in his voice, like he wasn’t sure whether to comfort me or eat me alive. My whole body trembled, and I realized I was gripping his sleeve like a lifeline. His breath ghosted across my ear. Sent a chill down my spine.

“Inhibitor... There should be one in the med kit. Help me—help me get it.”

I could barely get the words out, but I forced them anyway, desperate. I just hoped—maybe, just maybe—Chase would do the right thing.

Silence behind me. Chase didn’t move. My skin crawled.

The silence stretched, heavy as lead. Chase’s presence behind me was a wall. Solid. Unyielding. Just as likely to crush me as to shield me.

I could feel his lips hovering right above the sensitive skin at the back of my neck—close, but not touching. Way too risky. My heart hammered.

Every nerve ending screamed at me to get away. I tried to remember the protocol. My mind was fogged—pain, and something dangerously close to want.

Chase Whitaker is an alpha. Worse, he’s single. Just my luck.

And he’d always had a reputation. He was the last person I wanted to be alone with right now.

A remote base in the middle of nowhere, a surprise inspection, just the two of us. Figures.

It felt like the setup to a bad joke. Only, nobody was laughing. Least of all me.

Chase said it was to help me get promoted next month. Yeah, right.

He’d grinned when he said it. All easy charm, big-brother swagger.

Why did I ever buy that crap? I rubbed my eyes.

It was the kind of lie you want to believe. I’d let myself get comfortable. Now here I was—caught flat-footed by my own wishful thinking.

The fever and pain from the shift clouded my brain. Instinct screamed: run.

But my legs were jelly, and every breath was a struggle. All I could focus on was the pounding of my own heart. The cold certainty that I was in over my head.

“No, no. You can’t—” My voice broke.

My voice broke, raw and desperate. The world narrowed down. The press of his body. The heat of his skin. Fear clawing at my chest.

The arm holding me was steel. The silence behind me? Downright chilling.

It was the kind of silence that comes before a storm. I could feel his heartbeat. Steady. Slow. Like he had all the time in the world.

After a moment, Chase buried his face in my neck. Let out a low, mocking laugh. My skin crawled.

The sound vibrated against my skin, sending shivers through me. Shivers. I hated it.

“Why not? You’re not really my brother, are you?”

His words hit like a sucker punch. Damn him.

That’s right. Adopted. Like a dirty secret.

It was the kind of thing people whispered about, but never said out loud. My whole life, I’d tried to fit in, to be a Whitaker. But blood always tells. Doesn’t it?

The Whitaker family’s genes? Eighty percent alphas. Every doctor said it: I was a beta. Just a regular guy.

Family reunions were a parade of tall, broad-shouldered alphas. I learned to laugh it off. Didn’t mean it didn’t sting. Every damn time.

Crushed. For a long time.

The day I found out, the world tilted. Spent a week holed up in my room. Pretending I didn’t care.

In Chase’s words, I was just picked up. Picked up. Like a stray.

He’d said it like it was nothing. But it was everything.

Yeah. Chase heard that the day I did. He even muttered, "That’s great." Great. Sure.

He’d said it with a shrug, not looking at me. I still don’t know which.

Great? What’s so great about that? Seriously. What’s so great about that?

I’d replayed those words a thousand times, trying to make sense of them. Or just glad to have an excuse to keep his distance?