Chapter 2: I don’t mind

“Captain?”

“I’ll be out in a minute. You guys get ready first,” Amelia called back.

“Got it.”

The soldier outside left, and the rest of the team stood neatly in formation, packs shouldered and weapons secured.

Knox strolled over, slinging an arm around the shoulders of Maverick.

“Maverick, why are you standing here alone?”

Maverick shifted away from his touch, voice low and calm. “Captain said to get ready. She’ll be out soon.”

That made the others pause.

“Wait— is the Captain sick?” someone asked, surprised.

“I don’t think so,” Knox said, squinting toward the tent.

“Then what do you think’s going on?”

Knox shrugged, smirking. “I think it has something to do wi—”

“With what?”

Amelia’s voice cut in as she stepped out of the tent, head down, checking the gun in her hand.

When she looked up, the muzzle was aimed directly at Knox.

He yelped and ducked behind the nearest omega, grabbing the poor guy’s belt for cover. Amelia’s boots crunched steadily on the dirt as she approached.

“I didn’t say anything!” Knox called out with a grin, peeking from behind the shield of his teammate.

“Really?” Amelia twirled the gun around her fingers before pointing it right back at the half of his head that was still visible. “You packed already?”

“Packed! Totally packed,” Knox said quickly, nodding like a bobblehead.

“Then let’s move.”

Lowering the weapon, Amelia flashed him a lazy, dangerous smile.

In the golden light of early morning, she reached up and tied her half-dry hair into a loose ponytail. The wind tousled a few strands across her forehead. Her pale skin almost glowed in the sunlight, and her peach-blossom eyes narrowed slightly as she faced the horizon.

The faint lines at the corners of her eyes deepened as she squinted, half-shadowing her light-colored pupils.

She looked almost harmless—until your gaze fell to the scar carved across her chin.

......

Everyone in the camp knew her name.

Amelia Langley.

Her grandfather, General August, was one of the most respected elder officers in the Alliance. Two years ago, when he retired, her father took up his mantle. And in that same two-year stretch, Amelia had become the youngest A-rank officer in the Alliance and formed her own special combat unit.

At first, everyone whispered that her team had been handpicked by her father to clear the road ahead for her.

Amelia didn’t care. She trained hard, took every mission without complaint, and spent what little downtime she had trying to catch up on sleep.

But there were always idiots who just couldn’t resist testing her—especially once news spread about her engagement to an alpha she’d never even met.

The only grandson of the Windsor family. The one in the wheelchair.

Once upon a time, the Windsors had been as powerful as the Langleys. But that was seven years ago—before the military riot.

Brady Windsor was killed in action. His wife passed soon after. The only ones left were General Colton, long retired, and his crippled grandson.

To protect the boy, Colton sent him abroad.

And then, two years ago, just when people had nearly forgotten the Windsors, they made headlines again.

The Windsor–Langley marriage agreement.

That’s when Amelia got the photo.

She’d stared at it for a long time.

The boy in the picture was around fifteen. Sitting upright in a wheelchair. Shirt tucked, tie neat, a soft gray blanket draped over his legs.

He wasn’t looking at the camera. But the side profile—strong lines, proper posture—held a kind of restrained elegance that was hard to look away from.

“He looks so damn proper,” Amelia muttered, half to herself.

General August had been watching her the whole time.

“I respect your decision, Amelia,” he said finally. “If you don’t want to go through with it, say so.”

“Grandpa.” Her eyes didn’t leave the photo. “Are you sure I never met him when I was little? He’s… too familiar. But I can’t remember where I’ve seen him. And he’s so good-looking. Damn.”

The old general chuckled, then sighed. “Before everything happened to his family, he was in and out of hospitals for leg treatments. You wouldn’t have crossed paths.”

Amelia tapped the photo against her palm, other hand resting on her chin. Something about that boy—it tugged at the back of her memory, just out of reach.

She frowned, then shook her head and let it go. She never did like forcing herself to remember things. If she couldn’t place it now, she’d just ask when she met him.

“Whatever. I don’t mind. He’s handsome. At least I won’t be embarrassed to take him out in public.”

General August raised a brow. She was dead serious.

“Amelia… do you understand what this marriage means?” His voice was more stern now.

She met his eyes, steady and unbothered. “Yeah. It means the Windsor and Langley families will be bound together from now on.”

Then, grinning, she tucked the photo into her pocket and walked behind him, pressing both hands into his shoulders like a playful massage.

“But Grandpa— I’ve got one condition too.”

“Oh?” He looked at her sideways. “And what’s that?”

Standing in the courtyard, she stared up at the lotus flowers blooming quietly in the pond and said,

“I don’t want to follow the path you and my father paved for me. I want to climb it step by step—on my own.”

“I want to go to the front lines. I want to prove that even if the Langley family only has one omega left, we can still crush everyone beneath our boots.”

If the Windsors were down to one crippled heir, then the Langleys weren’t much better.

Brady Langley had two daughters. One was a beta. The other—Amelia—was an omega.

For a household that stood at the top of the military alliance, the gossip was inevitable.

And whenever the rumors found their way to Amelia, she hunted down the source. And beat the hell out of them.

One-on-one or outnumbered, it didn’t matter.

She never lost.

Six months of this, and she’d earned a reputation that made even seasoned alphas shut the hell up. Eventually, the whispers stopped altogether. By then, the name “Amelia Langley” came with an unspoken warning: This omega hits harder than most alphas.

After her eighteenth birthday, Amelia passed every exam, cleared every trial, and officially joined the military.

The Langley family rose again—this time, not on the back of a father or grandfather.

But because of her.

She proved it: with enough strength, gender meant nothing. An omega could toss an alpha like a sack of feathers.

......

A fleet of off-road vehicles rolled out from the forest, kicking up clouds of dust as they rumbled into base.

As soon as they arrived, Amelia went to file her training report. The rest of the team dispersed to their dorms.

When she finally came out of the command building, Maverick was waiting for her nearby.

The meeting had dragged on for nearly two hours. Amelia looked like she was one sigh away from punching the wall. She handed the laptop in her arms to the soldier who came up to take it, then stretched with a groan.

“Got something to say?” she asked.

Maverick hesitated, then silently took the computer and followed behind her.

Amelia didn’t press. If it wasn’t a matter of principle, she wasn’t the kind of captain to micromanage.

They cut across the base, passing the training field and heading toward the barracks.

When they reached the shooting range, activity suddenly stopped. A row of alphas turned their heads to watch her walk past, their gazes full of admiration.

Amelia glanced at them once, then looked away. That kind of reverent awe never sat right with her.

“Captain Amelia,” someone called out from the range. “Wanna shoot a few rounds with us?”

She was about to pretend she hadn’t heard when Maverick—damn him—stopped walking.

Maverick pointed to the group. “They’re calling you.”

“Goddamn it…” Amelia exhaled through her teeth and smiled. “You little traitor. You want to spar, huh?”

Maverick shook his head quickly. “No. Absolutely not.”

But it was too late. The group had already come over.

Amelia sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re not training?”

The lead alpha smiled. “We’ve been waiting for you to get back. Thought we’d have a friendly match.”

“No match necessary. I already won.”

She glanced past them at the targets behind the range. “I accounted for wind direction and velocity when I walked by earlier. At least three of you didn’t even qualify on this course.”

A few of the alphas looked away, guilt all over their faces.

Amelia turned to leave.

After a couple steps, she paused and looked back.

“That didn’t piss you off, right?” she asked with a grin.

Before they could reply, she laughed and shouted over her shoulder, “Let’s go, Maverick. If they jump you later, I’m not saving your ass.”

“Oh—okay.” Maverick jogged to catch up, keeping two steps behind. He mimicked her tone as he followed, “If I get jumped, I won’t lose.”

One of the alphas made a move like he was going to charge, but was pulled back by his teammates.

“Captain or not, she’s still an omega. That’s biology. She’s got limits—”

The rest of his words were muffled by a hand slapped over his mouth.

The lead alpha glanced at the struggling man, then turned to the two holding him. “You didn’t tell him?”

The pair chuckled and dragged the guy toward the range. “We’ll handle it, sir. We’ll educate him real quick.”

Once the group had retreated, the older alpha turned his gaze toward the path Amelia had taken.

......

Amelia’s hand rested on the doorknob. “Maverick.”

“Captain, I…”

He tried to say it. That same sentence he’d rehearsed a hundred times in his head. But it never made it out.

With a quiet sigh, Amelia pushed the dormitory door open and said bluntly, “You’re coming home with me later.”

Maverick blinked. “Huh?”

She glanced at the time on her wristband. “Go pack. Meet me at the main gate in thirty minutes.”

Before he could ask anything else, the door closed in his face.

It took him a second—then he spun around and bolted down the hallway.

Exactly thirty minutes later, a military jeep rolled to a stop at the front gate.

The passenger-side window slid down. “Get in.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Maverick climbed in, all regulation-precise movements. Once inside, he sat perfectly straight, hands on his knees, eyes forward.

“Relax,” Amelia said, casting him a glance. “We’re on leave. You don’t have to sit like you’re in basic.”

Maverick loosened his shoulders just a little. “Sorry. I’m just… a bit nervous.”