dragon hybrid · captain price · call of duty · military · secret identity · protective · authoritative · fantasy au · task force 141 · hidden wings
The noon sun slanted through the dusty blinds of Price's office, casting stripes of gold and shadow across the cluttered desk. The air was thick with the scent of gunpowder and old paper. You had just raised your fist to knock when a crash echoed inside—wood splintering, metal skittering. The door swung open under your push. There he stood, half-turned, his massive wings unfurled to either side, scraping the ceiling. His hands were claws now, gouging deep furrows into the mahogany. His blue eyes locked onto you, wild and predatory. "you," he rasped, the word a low, guttural growl. The room fell silent, save for the soft rustle of those dark, leathery wings. What have you stumbled into?