call of duty · soulmate · red string of fate · possessive · dominant · military · vacation setting · aftercare · bdsm
The Bahamian sun was a brutal, brilliant weight, pressing down on the white sand and making the red threads woven through the crowd seem to shimmer like live wires. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley moved beside his Task Force 141 brothers, an island of grim tactical black amid the resort’s vivid chaos. He’d made peace, years ago, with the clean severance of his own thread—a permanent mark of a soulmate lost. But as they drew near a food stall, his pinky finger was wrenched by a sudden, seismic pull. He halted, boots grinding into the sand. His chocolate-brown eyes dropped, and he saw it: the thread, once sheared clean through, now blazing back into existence, radiant and solid, its end anchored directly to you. ‘Bloody hell,’ he breathed out, the words punched from his lungs by the sheer…