Author's Note: This is my original plot. If you see this posted anywhere besides here or my AO3 account, please report it and inform me immediately.

Werewolves had been an intricate part of society since John could remember. Their politics were alongside the human ones in the news, their murders just as important, and their kind was given the exact same treatment as a human despite their physical prowess. In the workforce, they worked with humans and sometimes for humans. For the most part, though, they kept to themselves, and only the radical religious groups had an issue with werewolves.

John never had an issue working with a wolf. Because they were generally physically stronger than a human, many of them had taken up positions in the military or police force. As far as John could tell, they were just like everyone else – save for their physical strength, stronger senses, and ability to turn into a wolf at will. But John had never given a wolf a second thought, and he sure as Hell never understood how werewolf culture worked. And he never thought that he would have to.

Everything changed in Maiwand, Afghanistan. John's brigade had been sent out on patrol, and he had thought nothing of it at the time. After all, he had been on more patrols than he cared to recall. But this time, it was different. He could feel it in his bones. So when they were blindsided by a wolf pack, John was actually prepared for it. They fought for their lives and managed to win, but at a cost. John had been bitten in his left shoulder, and they had lost seven men in the brigade.

When they made it back to base, it was too late for John to receive the antidote. He was told that he would become a werewolf no matter what, a prospect that terrified him, but that he should be able to continue serving in the army once the transformation was complete. An entire moon phase passed before John presented as a werewolf. That night would be forever seared in his mind – the painful transformation into a foreign body, the imbalance and fear he felt, the overwhelming stimuli for all five of his senses, the need to flee from where he was. Finally, he passed out and woke up the next morning in his human body. It was then that they informed him that he presented as an Omega and, therefore, could no longer serve in the army.

No matter how hard he fought it, he was released into the custody of The Centre. John had heard of them before in the news, several years back. Apparently, there had been an issue with too many "unbonded" Omegas being raped or forcibly mated. The Centre was set up as a countermeasure. They would take in every Omega and do their best to find a perfect match for a mate. Now that John had presented, he was forced to go to this place. He had to fill out stacks and stacks of paperwork – about himself, his family, his finances, his living situation, his prospects, and so on. Once he was done with that, he was given a dating survey, which he found utterly ridiculous, and given his own room. It was entirely white and scentless, something John appreciated at first. Now, though, it just seemed like a prison.

"John Watson, an Alpha is here to meet you," Anthea called out. She was his caretaker while he was here, and she had a tendency to ignore his existence unless she had a specific job to do.

With a sigh, John rose to his feet. They had a five-stage system here at the Centre for finding mates. Stage One was the introduction of the Alpha and Omega via scent. Both parties were blindfolded, as it was proven that physical appearances could override an instinctual reaction through scent. If both parties enjoyed the other's scent, they would move onto Stage Two. The Alpha would be given a file about the available Omega. If interested, the Alpha would give the Centre something of his or hers to be presented to the Omega. It was so the Omega could scent their potential Alpha, which meant John would imprint the scent in his mind as the scent of his Alpha. It was a slow process, as John would have to become as familiar with the Alpha's scent as he was with his own. During this stage, the Alpha could renege on his offer and take his possession back, which wasn't common but also not unheard of. If the Omega kept the possession for a week, both of them would move onto the third step.

John didn't know how the process continued. In fact, he had never even gone to Stage Two. Most scents he found repulsive – too pungent or overbearing – and the scents he could tolerate… Well, no Alpha was interested in an Omega John's age. At least, not when there were so many younger Omegas available. Sometimes, John worried that he would never leave the Centre again. If he couldn't get an Alpha, he had no way to leave without becoming a fugitive. Anthea gave him a brief smile before covering his eyes with a blindfold.

"Please remember: do not remove the blindfold-"

"-And don't speak. Yes, I know," John responded with a sigh.

Anthea patted his good shoulder. "This Alpha might be the one," she pointed out, as she always did.

Nodding, John remained still as he waited. Anthea's sweet scent drifted away. Betas always smelled better to John. Their scents weren't as overpowering. Listening carefully, he could hear Anthea's footsteps return along with another pair. Before John smelled the Alpha, he always tried to figure out as much as he could about the person. He could hear that the second pair of footsteps were heavy, so a male. The gait was a bit longer than John, so he was taller, but not by much. Once they were in John's room, they stopped. John hesitantly took a step forward. And another. And another. Cocking his head, he inhaled deeply only to find that he couldn't smell the Alpha yet. That was strange. Normally, he was buffeted by the scent by the first step. Taking a fourth step, John caught a whiff. It smelled like apples and fresh leather with just a hint of gunpowder underneath. It smelled good. Biting back a groan, John reached forward to keep himself from running into the Alpha. After two more steps, he felt a silky cloth meet his hand. Another hand suddenly covered his own, warm and soft against his rough skin.

Slowly, John took another step forward. He didn't know if the Alpha liked physical contact, so he wasn't going to force them into an awkward situation. The hand shifted down John's arm and grasped it, pulling John closer. Suddenly, John felt two arms wrapped around him, and he fell face-first into a broad chest. Sucking in a deep breath, John relaxed against the Alpha. He twisted in the arms and pressed his face into the Alpha's neck, taking in a deep breath again. This was perfect. The scent wasn't overbearing, the embrace was warm and firm, and John felt safe and comfortable here. Breathing slowly, John savoured every moment he could. He had never felt this way around an Alpha before, and he doubted he would ever feel this way again. His hands gripped the Alpha's suit fiercely, trying to keep him close. Honestly, John lost count of the minutes they stayed together like that.

Even so, it was still too soon when he heard Anthea's voice call out, "Sir, it's time to leave and meet your next Omega."

John felt panic well up in his mind. This was it – this Alpha would find someone better looking or younger than John, and he would lose this scent forever. Immediately, his grip tightened, and he barely kept down a whine. He felt a pair of hands grab his good shoulder and pull him back. John gasped before he heard a possessive growl rumble through the Alpha's chest. Immediately, John was pulled back close, and he felt a pair of lips press to his head. A reassurance. A silent promise. One John didn't believe in. Releasing him, the Alpha let John be pulled away before he was escorted out of the room.

Once the door closed, John pulled off his blindfold and rubbed his eyes. Part of him wished he had never met that Alpha, now knowing what he had lost.