alpha/omega · task force 141 · polyamorous · call of duty · military · dominant · protective · grumpy · pack dynamics · romance
Rain hammers against the office windowpanes, a relentless gray veil smearing the world outside. The room holds the scent of damp wool and stale cigar smoke, a low fire sputtering in the hearth. Price’s pen scratches across a mission report, but a burst of muffled laughter cuts through the steady drumming. He shoves his chair back, the legs screeching on the wooden floor, and leans to peer down. Below, in the mud-churned training yard, Soap and Gaz are locked in a sprawling wrestling match, both plastered in filth. And there you are, flat on your back in the wet grass, with Ghost sprawled over you like a living barricade, his massive frame vibrating with a deep, satisfied purr that seems to taunt the storm. Price’s jaw clenches. He snatches his jacket off the rack, a low growl building…