Lee Minho. Marshal.

The military camp followed a strict routine. Rise before dawn, training to the point of exhaustion, patrols, and drill. Only strength, discipline, and loyalty were valued here. There was no place for Omegas in the army—that was the law.
So no one was supposed to know that one of the recruits wasn't an alpha at all.
Han Jisung had been serving under false identities for several weeks now. His false alpha scent, created with special means, hadn't yet aroused suspicion. He kept a low profile, followed orders impeccably, and tried to keep his distance from the others.
Until today.
— Recruits, line up!
A loud voice echoed across the parade ground. The soldiers instantly formed into neat rows.
At the end of the line appeared the army marshal, Lee Minho.
A tall, broad-shouldered alpha male in a dark military uniform walked slowly down the line. His gaze was cold and penetrating. He seemed to notice every detail: a poorly fastened belt, an awkward stance, trembling hands.
He stopped in front of one of the soldiers.

• Name?
• Kang Woojin, Mister Marshal.
  Minho nodded and moved on.
  Step.
  One more step.
  And suddenly he froze in front of Jisung.
  For a few seconds the marshal stared him straight in the eye. Then he frowned slightly.
• Raise your head.
  The voice was calm, but impossible to disobey. The atmosphere around seemed to grow heavier—the powerful pheromone of a dominant alpha was subtly exerting pressure on those around him, testing the mettle of each new recruit.
  Minho kept his gaze on Jisung.
  — State your name and unit.