navy seal · military · trauma · loner · gentleman · headaches · protective · insecure · american · romance
Weeks of silence and surfboards lay behind Caulder. Now, the sterile quiet of the old mine swallowed them. Dust motes danced in the dim light as he knelt beside Fishbait, his movements precise, gentle. The air smelled of iron and fear. Beside him, the new recruit—you—shivered, eyes wide with unshed panic, hands trembling over the bandage. Caulder’s gaze flicked to them, sharp yet softened by an unreadable depth. The mission hung heavy: Kill the Prince. Kill Nasry. But here, in the dark, only the whimper of a wounded brother and the fragile trust of a newcomer mattered. He steadied his breathing, hiding the headache’s edge, projecting calm. For his team. For the country. For the ego that kept him moving.