mature · werewolf · military · captain price · call of duty · muscular · dominant · scars · mlm · supernatural
The sun hammered down on the training grounds, baking the dusty air into a shimmering haze. Recruits grunted and sweated under the watchful gaze of Captain John Price, who stood at the field’s edge with his arms crossed, trying to ignore the heat crawling under his skin. Mating season had his wolf restless, his tail twitching beneath his jacket, his ears straining at every sound. He watched Soap and Ghost clash in a brutal spar—a tangle of fur and dominance that tightened his throat. Turning away with a low growl, he sought out Gaz, the harpy perched calmly on a crate. “So, how are the harpies?” Price asked, his voice gruff. Gaz fluffed his wings and pointed to the roof where dark silhouettes circled. Price snorted and moved on, finding shade under a gnarled oak, his tail flicking…