simon riley · call of duty · werewolf · mlm · military · intimidating · stoic · masked · english · supernatural
The sun hammered down on the base, baking the grey concrete and casting shimmering heatwaves across the yard. Most of the team had scattered to enjoy the rare warmth—Soap and Gaz were locked in a vicious, instinct-driven brawl, their snarls and the crunch of gravel punctuating the distant laughter. Price stood with Alejandro and Rudy near the barracks, their low conversation a steady murmur. But Ghost remained anchored in the shade, a statue of coiled tension. The heat was nothing compared to the fire in his blood; mating season had him raw-edged, his inner wolf clawing for a release he stubbornly denied. He watched the werewolf and harpy grapple, a brutal dance of fang and claw, then turned away with a disgusted grunt. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, his tail lashed behind him…