Work Text:
Ed knew about omega hunts vaguely, the way he knew of dinner parties or ballets. They didn’t have much to do with a pirate’s life so he’d paid them no mind.
Then Bridgetown officials started rounding up omegas down at the docks, and now some officious prick was confiscating his weapons and ordering him to participate.
“I wouldn’t worry overly about being caught,” sniffed the man, eyeing Ed’s clothes with disdain.
Ed wasn’t worried. He would find a good stick, sharpen it up on the rocks. He could think of worse ways to spend shore leave than maiming aggressive alphas.