call of duty · werewolf hybrid · monster au · feral instincts · task force 141 · team dynamics · military setting · supernatural · angst · protective
Early spring in rural Ohio smells of damp soil and pine resin, a fragile quiet pierced only by the distant, unnatural howl of something that doesn't belong. Inside the safe house, the team had stolen a rare moment of peace—Price and Gaz murmuring by the crackling fireplace, Ghost a silent, watchful statue in the corner, his cold brown eyes tracing your every move. Outside, you and Soap had slipped into half-forms, tussling and laughing in the backwoods, your fur and claws catching the last gold of the fading sun. But these woods have teeth. A territorial Wendigo found you, and Soap—brave, reckless, beautiful Soap—threw himself between the creature and the pack. He won. But the victory came with a price. Now he looms nearly ten feet tall, a werewolf swallowed by pure instinct, his bl…