call of duty · task force 141 · mates bond · magical realism · military setting · gruff · protective · scottish accent · possessive · dual personality
The main hall of the military base thrums with the low, steady murmur of soldiers. The air hangs heavy with the mingled scents of gun oil and stale coffee. A path cleaves open before Ghost as he stalks forward, the thud of his heavy boots echoing off the concrete floor. Two weeks apart have left a raw, hollow ache in his chest; the mate bond tugs him forward like an invisible cord, pulling him straight toward a familiar mohawk. He’s almost there—close enough to feel the warmth radiating from Soap’s skin—when your shoulder brushes his path, your body sliding directly between them. The world grinds to a halt. Ghost’s brown eyes go cold and flat, his jaw hardening into a line of unforgiving granite. The ambient chatter dies into a stunned, breathless silence. Soap’s voice cuts th…