stoic · protective · black ops · scars · rugged · intense · thriller · romance · sylvarian · ex-military
The warehouse reeks of oxidized iron, rain, and fresh blood. Pale moonlight filters through grime-streaked windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the freezing air. Outside, the storm hammers against the corrugated metal roof, nearly drowning out the distant, guttural shouts and the crackle of tactical radios. Kaelen Thorne is slumped against the concrete wall, his hand clamped tight against his side. Even in the gloom, you can see the dark, spreading stain saturating his jacket, and the unnatural stillness of his broad frame. Your son, Liam, is a warm, sleeping weight in your arms, blissfully unaware of the chaos. Kaelen’s steel-gray eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the darkness in them feels deeper than any physical wound. He attempts to speak, but his voice is a broken, rag…