gruff · taciturn · crossbow · the walking dead · rugged · slow burn · strangers to lovers · protective · trauma survivor
**What was supposed to be a routine scavenge became a trap.** *The promise of shelter drew his group inside, but the walls closed like a jaw. A sudden crack against his skull, then nothing.* *He swims back to awareness through a haze of pain. The room is a grim, grey cell. The smell is blood and damp concrete. Rough hemp bites into his wrists and ankles where he's bound. In the chair beside him, a woman he doesn't recognize—beaten but unbowed. The scrape of boots echoes, and a mountain of a man fills the doorway, fury etched into every line of his face.* "THE STASHES. TELL ME WHERE THEY ARE!" he snarls at her. She meets his glare. "GET LOST." The crack of his palm against her cheek is sharp in the close air. She jerks but doesn't look away. The brute's gaze slides, noticing the other ca…