One thing that Stephen Hart was always proud of was that he rarely let his Alpha instinct get the better of him. He didn't let his temper get out of hand. He didn't seek out conflict just to prove he was the stronger. He didn't play dominance games. He didn't make aggressive shows of power. In his mind, there was no point to any of that. He was an Alpha, and that spoke for itself, no help required.

Now, not all Alphas were equal. Some were stronger than others, just like there were ranks amongst Betas, some having more dominance than others, some being more submissive, and over the years, he'd fine-tuned his own ability to sense power in others. He knew when he was the stronger Alpha in a situation, and he also knew when he wasn't. He and Nick Cutter were on even terms so far as dominance went, though in slightly different ways, which was what allowed them to get on so well together. Cutter was the brains, the one that gave advice and guidance and wisdom, and whilst Stephen wasn't stupid, he was more physical, the one to enforce and defend. That was how they worked, and he was quite satisfied with their arrangement.

They even had their own little pack. Abby was a spunky little firecracker of a Beta, dominant enough to do a little growling of her own when she was provoked. Sarah wasn't quite so powerful, and whilst not submissive, she preferred avoiding conflict altogether. And Connor... Stephen wasn't sure what the hell Connor was. He smelt like a Beta and acted like one, but there were times when he showed these odd flashes of Alpha temperament, only to turn around and whine submissively when Cutter snarled. It was bizarre.

But still, Stephen was protective of them. It was natural. They were his pack and his responsibility. It was his job to look after them, something he didn't trust to anyone else but Cutter, not even the soldiers, Alpha or no. Still, he didn't let his own nature get the better of him. He hadn't let it best him for 32 years, and he wasn't about to start now.

Though now he was really starting to rethink that last bit.

Raptors, no matter what size or era, were never good news. There were no massive utahraptors like the ones from the shopping centre this time, but rather Herrerasaurus, a slightly smaller yet no less vicious Triassic theropod. Six of them, to be precise, had pinned Stephen, Sarah, and Abby inside the Hilux, hissing and shrieking and trying to figure out how to get their prey out from this peculiar shell. Stephen was cursing profusely, his spare ammo in the crate outside, hoping that Cutter would arrive with backup soldiers right bloody now! And then a painful familiar voice shouted over the raptors' hissing.

"Oi! Over 'ere, you overgrown gecko!" Connor shouted, throwing a rock with surprisingly accurate aim. The stone struck one Herrerasaurus in the snout; the raptor shrieked and turned towards him.

"Fucking hell," Stephen barked as the theropods charged towards Connor, who took to his heels with alacrity into the trees. He was out of the Hilux in a second, snatching up ammo from the box as he bolted after them.

As it turned out, though, it was actually planned. Connor had gone running...straight back to Cutter and the waiting team of soldiers, locked and loaded with sights trained on the raptors. A volley of shots, and all six Herrerasaurus corpses were being shoved back through the anomaly. But that didn't stop Stephen from showing a rare flash of temper to snarl at Cutter for even suggesting the idea of using live human bait to catch bloody raptors, not to mention using Connor.

And speaking of...

As the soldiers were setting up a perimetre around the anomaly and Cutter talked enthusiastically with Sarah and Abby about seeing a Herrerasaurus up close, Stephen grabbed Connor by the arm and dragged him off to the side, out of earshot. "Don't you ever do something so bloody stupid again, Temple!" he snarled, gripping the boy by the upper arms and giving him a rough shake for emphasis. "Do you understand me? I don't give a rat's arse what Cutter says, don't you ever do that again. Don't you ever, ever go wandering about an anomaly unless I'm with you." He shook Connor again, almost knocking that ridiculous hat right off his head, a low growl roiling in the depths of his chest. He was angry, bloody pissed, because he hadn't protected his pack, hadn't protected his Connor. Wait a tick, his Connor? Since when was the nerd his Connor? Shrugging off his own thoughts, he refocused and repeated, "Do you understand me?"

Connor had a sort of stunned look on his face, eyes wide and mouth slightly open but speechless. Stephen growled again, demanding an answer. The younger man whined softly in reply, head tilting to expose his throat, and Stephen leant back a little, surprised by the gesture of submission, and for the briefest of seconds, he could smell something new, something different yet not altogether unfamiliar before it disappeared again. "I understand you want to protect us, Stephen, but I'm not some lackey you get to boss around," Connor replied, the brief flicker of submission gone as that little spark of challenge returned to his eyes. "We're going to be in danger some time or another."

"Not if I can help it," Stephen countered, a growl still underlying his words. Damn this boy and his ability to stir his Alpha instinct!

A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Yes, sir, Alpha," he replied. Connor did something entirely unexpected then. He leant forward and lightly nuzzled against the side of Stephen's throat, rough stubble just scraping his skin before pulling away again; Stephen was so struck by what'd just happened that he let the young man walk away, hands falling limp to his side. What in the hell was that? What Connor had just done, that was a traditional Omega gesture towards their Alpha mate as a sign of complacency.

But Connor was a Beta, not an Omega. Right?