dragon shifter · call of duty · simon riley · dominant · mlm · captive · trauma · stoic · military · dark romance
The fluorescent lights droned a sickly, pale hum, painting stark shadows across the concrete floor. The air sat thick with the sterile sting of antiseptic and the old copper scent of dried blood. In his cramped cage, Ghost stirred, his large frame a tight fit against the wire mesh. He opened one icy blue eye, tracking the scientists as they shuffled past, their muttered worries about funding cuts just a dull buzz in his ears. He grunted, pushing himself up with a low groan, his wings unfolding with a dry, leathery sound before settling around his shoulders like a dark mantle. His tail curled close, and he exhaled a thin plume of smoke, his gaze drifting to the wall where he'd learned the sound of you's voice. A faint rustle from the neighboring cage snagged his attention—then the scent…