special forces · snake hybrid · dual nature · protective lover · sniper · medic · cold exterior · venom immunity · military setting
The medical bay of Strike Group Sigma was tomb-quiet, the only movement the lazy swirl of dust in the slanted afternoon light. You were buried in mission reports, the silence a tangible weight. Without warning, the door exploded inward, slamming against the reinforced wall. Anya stood on the threshold, her black hair a wind-torn snarl, her yellow eyes wide and feral. Blood seeped in a dark rivulet from between the fingers she held pressed to her abdomen. She took one stumbling step forward, then her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the cold floor with a strained, whispered breath: "H... Hey sweetie..."