Shadow Unit Scandal: The Commander's Omega-Chapter 175: Baby

Before Adam could even finish the thought of seeing Maximilian, the man moved.

One clean, decisive shift through the aisle, like the space had already agreed to open for him and was right in front of Adam.

Adam felt the pressure of an alpha’s presence creeping up behind him, too close, too curious, a faint tilt of attention that made Adam’s skin prickle beneath the hoodie. Someone’s hand brushed his sleeve, and he shuddered at the thought of an alpha feeling the heat and trying his ’luck.’

Adam’s body reacted with a humiliating, instant flare of heat, and that half-second of vulnerability was all it took.

Max’s fingers hooked into the front of Adam’s hoodie - right below the collar, fabric bunching in his fist - and he yanked Adam back with controlled force.

Enough to make the contact behind him miss.

Adam stumbled once, breath catching, and then there was a hard chest under his hands, and the scent of expensive cologne filled his nose - clean, sharp, and infuriatingly nice now that his body was betraying him.

Max’s arm came around him before Adam could find his footing again.

A second later, Max’s other hand lifted, palm angled outward toward the alpha behind them in a quiet, absolute stop.

"Don’t," Max said.

Another hand landed on Adam, fingers curling at his sleeve with entitlement, as if the man had decided Adam was something to be claimed if he spoke loud enough.

Adam’s breath hitched. Heat surged, hot and humiliating, and his stomach turned as instinct tried to drag him toward the closest alpha presence just to survive the moment.

"Hey," the man behind him said, his voice too familiar, too easy. "Baby, there you are." Then, louder, he angled his face toward Max with an apologetic smile. "Sorry for the inconvenience, sir. He forgot to take his suppressants this morning."

Adam went very still.

The cashier’s eyes flicked up. Someone by the bread rack paused mid-reach. A man near the fridge glanced over, curious in that passive way civilians were when they sensed something tense but didn’t yet know whose side to pick.

Adam tried to wrench away, but the alpha tightened his grip just enough to make it look like guidance.

"He’s not—" Adam started, voice rough under the mask.

"He gets stubborn," the alpha cut in smoothly, smiling wider as if Adam’s protest was proof of intimacy. "He’s embarrassed. You know how it is."

Max didn’t lower his hand.

He didn’t move either.

He simply looked at the man - green-eyed, unblinking - like he was watching a bad actor forget his lines.

Then Max raised his voice enough to be heard by everyone but low enough to still be the calm one.

"He doesn’t know you," Max said.

The alpha’s smile faltered for half a second. He recovered instantly, still gripping Adam’s sleeve. "Excuse me?"

Max didn’t blink. "Take your hand off him."

The alpha leaned in closer to Adam, as if proximity would make the lie more convincing through sheer audacity. "We’re leaving," he said, louder now, for the benefit of the watching civilians. "He’s in heat, he’s dizzy, and you’re harassing us."

Adam’s stomach dropped, but for some reason he couldn’t form a word.

That was the trap. If Max backed off, the lie walked Adam out the door. If Max pushed too hard, the alpha could make it look like Max was the aggressor. Either way, attention would stick. Attention was how people got hurt.

Max’s nostrils flared once.

His posture shifted so subtly most people wouldn’t notice.

Adam noticed.

The air changed, tightening around Max as his pheromones rose. A warning issued with the precision of a weapon that did not need to be seen to function.

The alpha behind Adam noticed too.

His grip on Adam’s sleeve hesitated, just a fraction, like his instincts had tripped over something they didn’t like.

Max stepped half a pace closer to the alpha’s line of influence. He tilted his head slightly, the movement almost polite.

"Harassing?" Max echoed, voice still calm, still carrying. "You’re holding a stranger and calling him your lover."

The alpha’s smile sharpened into something irritated. "He’s not a stranger."

Max’s gaze flicked once to Adam. Hood up. Breathing unevenly. Scent leaking despite every attempt at control.

Then Max looked back at the alpha.

And the ether cracked.

A razor-thin fracture of sound right beside the alpha’s ears, like glass snapping in a silent room, followed by a pressure that made his skin crawl and his instincts recoil. Enough to make his pulse stutter. Enough to tell him, intimately and unmistakably, that the man in front of him was not just a dominant alpha.

He was dangerous.

The alpha flinched.

His eyes widened. His grip loosened without permission, fingers going slack as his body chose survival over arrogance.

Max leaned in just slightly, voice dropping so only the alpha could hear now private and lethal.

"You can stop," Max murmured. "Or you can learn what happens when you lie in front of witnesses."

The alpha swallowed hard. His gaze darted, searching for an exit that wouldn’t look like defeat.

Max straightened again, returning his voice to the room.

"He’s unwell," Max said, as if summarizing a simple situation. "He’s not with you. Step away."

The alpha forced a laugh that sounded like it hurt. "Fine," he said quickly. "Fine. Misunderstanding."

He lifted his hands in a show of innocence, then backed away down the aisle like the floor had turned to ice beneath his shoes.

Only when the man was gone did Max’s arm tighten around Adam’s waist, steadying him as Adam’s knees threatened to betray him.

Adam’s breath came out in a shaky exhale.

Max kept his body angled outward, shielding, and remaining the dominant presence in the room, signaling: handled.

"Can you walk?" Max asked, low and private.

Adam swallowed, pride burning hot under the heat. "I barely can speak, you asshole."

Max’s mouth twitched with annoyance, amusement, and something sharper caught between them. He didn’t look at Adam like a fragile thing. He looked at him like a difficult, dangerous person who was still upright and therefore still capable of giving him trouble.

"This is how you talk to your savior?" Max murmured, guiding him one step at a time toward the doors.

Adam’s laugh came out strained and breathless. "Savior implies I asked."

Max’s grip tightened fractionally at Adam’s waist. "You’re welcome anyway."

Adam’s stomach rolled again, heat pressing against his ribs like a second pulse. The shop’s air was too warm, too full of scent. Every alpha note in the room scraped along his nerves.

"Tune the pheromones down," Adam snapped, voice rough. "Before I vomit on you."

Max listened without commenting.

His presence eased. The heavy pressure in the air softened, and Adam’s next breath came slightly easier.

"Better?" Max asked.

"Marginally," Adam muttered, swallowing hard as they reached the exit. Cold air slipped in when the automatic doors parted, and Adam practically sagged into it, hood still up like that could hide the fact his body was a disaster.

Max kept him moving.

Outside, the world was sharper: winter air, exhaust, stone, and distance. Less scent. Less noise. Less chance.

Adam’s knees wobbled. He hated that too.

Max’s hand slid higher on his back for support, guiding him with the kind of control that wasn’t quite touch and wasn’t quite optional either.

"Try not to pass out," Max said, voice still low. "I’d prefer you conscious when you tell me why you thought grocery shopping in heat was a good idea."