Page 12 of Foxy Filthy Omega

“We can choose between a few options for our assigned weapons,” I explained. “The same pistol the police uses, or the one the military prefers.”

Alicia disappeared behind the metal racks and I crossed my arms over my chest, studying Soren out of the corner of my eye.

He stood slightly behind me with his feet planted shoulder-width apart and his hands clasped behind his back. It wasimpossible not to see how heavily the military had influenced him.

Everything about his build and posture screamed special forces.

Soren Hart reminded me too much of the agents my father trained and employed, but I couldn’t say I hated it when it was so intimately familiar. He even stared at nothing the same way they did.

Only a legacy alpha could train other, powerful alphas to ignore their instincts and be this obedient.

The military exclusively hired legacy alphas as their officers for that very reason. A normal alpha was sufficient if the team was made up of betas, but they upheld strict hierarchy in the military to prevent too many incidents.

We went by rank at Genesis, not designation. It has caused issues in the past, but we worked in teams of two or four, never more than that, and each team was carefully put together by me or my aunt so they would complement each other and synergize well.

Two alphas didn’t work together well unless one of them was clearly stronger than the other, and the one with less power could handle that. It wasn’t very common, but it did happen.

I’d thought my aunt was crazy to think I’d synergize well with another alpha, but looking at him now, I could see why.

Something about me always made other alphas bristle. They tried to subtly challenge me or hold my gaze without even realizing what they were doing.

I had no idea what it was exactly because there was visually nothing about me that would put another alpha on the defensive.

Up until very recently, I’ve been going by Frankie James and I didn’t have the red eyes of a legacy. My scent wasn’t very overpowering and I was careful not to act like one of thoseasshole alphas who wanted to lord their strength and power over everyone else.

But no one ever assumed I was a beta.

They all instantly recognized my designation and I was pretty sure that was thanks to the training my father had put me through. It wasn’t something I knew how to turn off and as a result, other alphas tried to put me in my place.

Then they quickly discovered that despite my appearance, I wasn’t weak.

Soren didn’t look like he cared if he was stronger than me or not. He gave me the impression that he’d already decided I was ranked above him in every way even without the confirmation of my pheromones.

Honestly, it was kind of unnerving.

Alicia placed the weapons I’d asked for in the drawer, along with ammunition. She pushed it to my side and I thanked her before grabbing the cases.

She buzzed us through the next door and I reached for it with my free hand, but Soren beat me to it.

He grabbed the handle and swung it open before I could react, stepping to the side so I could get through first.

I raised an eyebrow, not sure what to think of this behavior. I should be the one taking care of him, but I suppose this was what he might do for an officer ranked above him.

Deciding not to correct him, I went through and walked down to the stall at the very end of the range.

I set the cases down on the table well behind the line and unlocked the one I assumed he’d prefer. “You should be very familiar with this one if your resumé is accurate.”

He didn’t respond to the jab, but took the pistol I handed him, instantly checking to make sure there wasn’t a bullet in the chamber and that the safety was still on. Once he was satisfied, he placed his hands behind his back again, pistol and all.

“If you’d like a different one, you can just ask,” I muttered, annoyed for no good reason.

Grabbing the magazines and ammo, I handed both to him and waited.

Soren didn’t hesitate. He took them all without meeting my eyes and sat at the table, methodically loading all three magazines with the kind of speed and efficiency that told me he was stillveryfamiliar with guns even if it has been a few years since he was discharged.

I crossed my arms over my chest and watched as he lined up the magazines and then waited for my next order, looking completely unbothered by the unknown.

The guy was a soldier through and through.

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