Page 9 of Shared Omega

Everyone sits down again, and an uneasy silence descends over the briefing room.

“You’re probably wondering how we acquired this exquisite specimen,” Frostgrave says, clearly proud of his pet. “The Alpha you see before you was reconstructed from a marine commander named Bishop who was exposed to the contamination of the Zone.”

“You mean that Alpha used to be a marine?”

The Alpha just stands silently, his massive shoulders heaving slightly with his slow, steady breath. His dark, impassive eyes survey the soldiers in the briefing room with cold confidence.

“Not exactly,” Frostgrave says, plucking at his bearded chin. “Commander Bishop was grievously wounded in a battle by a pack of feral Alphas within the Zone. His body was mangled beyond repair. However, we were able to recover samples of his mutated tissue, which we used to create Dog.”

“So it’s a clone?” Someone asks.

“More or less,” Frostgrave answers. “Using an accelerated process of cellular division, we were able to grow Dog to the state of a mature adult within a matter of months. Since then, he has proved invaluable to our operations. He will be accompanying Blue Team on this mission.”

Beside me, Donovitch shakes his head emphatically.

“You’ve got to be kidding, Doc. That thing is a fucking wild animal.”

The woman, Hines, winces at the comment. Frostgrave just gives a patronizing smile.

“Dog has been running recon missions into the Zone for several months now. He knows his way around the central city ruins better than anyone. Plus, he has been introduced to Lily O’Neal’s specific scent signature. As soon as he picks up her trail, he will lead you right to the target.”

“Yeah,” Donovitch scoffs, “If he doesn’t eat us for breakfast first.”

The Alpha is glaring at Donovitch as if he thinks that sounds like a good idea.

“I assure you,” Frostgrave says, “there is nothing to fear. This Alpha has undergone an extensive process of deep psychological reconditioning, which I have personally overseen. Just like his namesake, Dog is obedient and loyal. Perhaps a demonstration is in order to assuage any doubts. Would you care to volunteer, Corporal…Donovitch, was it?”

Donovitch shakes his head again.

“No thanks, Doc,” he says then jerks his thumb toward me. “But I think Sloane here has been itching to get up close and personal with an Alpha.”

Frostgrave turns his cold eyes toward me again, making me shiver.

“Yes, perhaps that’s an even better choice.”

After those videos Frostgrave just finished showing us, the last thing I want is to be a volunteer on a stage. But I have to show these other marines that I’m not afraid.

No signs of weakness.

“Fine.”

I rise and stride to the front of the room. The Alpha’s dark, predatory eyes connect with mine, and I pray nobody notices the chill that wriggles up my backbone.

“Good,” Frostgrave says before turning toward the Alpha.

The small woman, Hines, has a worried expression on her face.

“Doctor, perhaps it would be better to reserve any demonstration for a more controlled environment. I’m not sure—”

“Nonsense, Hines,” Frostgrave rudely cuts her off. Then turning toward the Alpha, he says, “Dog, protect Sloane from Donovitch.”

The speed with which the Alpha erupts into action is astonishing. His enormous bulk positions itself in front of my body so quickly, I don’t even see him move. It’s as if he simply teleported there.

One massive arm sweeps my body protectively behind the Alpha as he shields me with his body. He hunches into a fighting stance, and I notice the short hairs on the back of his neck bristle, just like an angry canine.

The Alpha snarls at Donovitch, popping his jaws viciously, and the marine squirms and pushes back his seat. The metal legs of his chair scrape on the floor with a hideous sound. The marine’s face is a mask of total fear.

The whole thing lasts barely a second, before Frostgrave intercedes. When he speaks again, his voice is sharp and harsh like the crack of a whip.