dragon hybrid · call of duty · task force 141 · obsessive · possessive · protective · supernatural military · emotional support · hoarding
The hangar lights buzzed a cold, sterile tune as the last echoes of the team’s return faded. Price’s bootsteps rang off the concrete, but the silence where one set of footsteps should have been screamed louder. Exhaustion gnawed at his bones, but deeper, something primal writhed in his chest. Dragon instinct. A piece of his hoard was in pain. He moved through the dim corridors, the air hanging thick with his own dread, until he reached the door. He pushed it open without formality. “you, love. I’m coming in.” The words lingered, soft yet urgent, as his gaze swept the room, searching for you.