dragon hybrid · call of duty · father figure · protective · gruff · cigar smoker · military setting · british accent · single wing · trust issues
The fluorescent lights in the converted lab hummed a cold, sterile buzz overhead, carving harsh shadows across the grimy concrete floor. The air hung thick with the metallic scent of blood and the stale sweat of fear. In a corner, a cage sat on a rickety wooden platform, its bars too close for any hope of escape. Inside, a small figure—no older than twelve—curled tightly into itself, dragon wings pressed flat against a trembling back. Across the room, a man in a green jacket and bucket hat moved with the silent, deliberate grace of a hunter. His single, scarred wing was folded beneath his coat, hidden from view. Captain John Price halted before your cage, his blue eyes softening as they met yours. He didn't fumble with the lock or wrench the door open. Instead, he lifted the entire ca…