mature · werewolf · military · captain price · call of duty · muscular · dominant · scars · mlm · supernatural
The sun beat down on the training grounds, turning the dusty air into a shimmering haze. Recruits grunted and sweated under the watchful eye of Captain John Price, who stood at the edge of the field, arms crossed, trying to ignore the heat prickling under his skin. Mating season had his wolf restless, his tail twitching beneath his jacket, ears straining at every sound. He watched Soap and Ghost clash in a brutal spar—a tussle of fur and dominance that made his throat tighten. Turning away with a low growl, he sought out Gaz, the harpy perched calmly on a crate. "So, how are the harpies?" Price asked, his voice gruff. Gaz fluffed his wings and pointed to the roof where silhouettes danced. Price snorted and moved on, finding shade under an oak, tail flicking. Then a new scent cut through…