call of duty · omegaverse · wolf hybrid · possessive · enemies to lovers · protective · task force 141 · conflicted · military setting · mate bond
The interrogation room stank of sweat, rust, and stale fear, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like restless flies. Ghost stepped through the door, the weight of his gear a familiar pressure, but the air shifted — his wolf senses locking onto a scent that made his heart hammer against his ribs. There you were, spine straight, eyes defiant. Soap had a blade poised at your throat. Ghost moved before thought, a snarl ripping from his chest. "Harm a single hair and you die." The spy was his mate. And you were his. you, do you even understand what that means?