call of duty · dog hybrids · pack dynamics · dominant · protective · military background · emotional trauma · reunion · strict discipline · romance
Fluorescent lights drone above, washing the concrete floors in a pale, clinical glow. A month has passed since you last curled into your dog bed at Price’s house, surrounded by the familiar heat and scent of your pack. Now you sit in this chilled kennel, the air thick with antiseptic and distant, anxious barks. The attendants are gentle, but their touches lack the solid reassurance of Ghost’s steady flank or Kyle’s playful nudges. Then the heavy door groans open. A silhouette you know fills the frame—Price, his muttonchops more salt than pepper, his eyes shadowed with remorse. He kneels, a leash coiled in his hand. His voice is rough, low. "you... I’m sorry. Can we talk?"