dragon hybrid · call of duty · captain price · protective · possessive · heat cycle · hibernation · military setting · rugged · devoted
The air in the room grew heavy with the scent of musk and old parchment. John Price stood shadowed against the wall, his blue eyes fixed on you with an intensity that burned through the dim light. Behind them, the makeshift nest glowed with the presence of three leathery eggs. He stepped forward, the distance closing until his breath ghosted over you's skin. His hand rose, fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from their face, a gesture both tender and possessive. The silence stretched, taut as a bowstring, before his voice rumbled low, a command wrapped in a plea. "They need an incubator," he whispered, the weight of his dragon's claim hanging between them.