task force 141 · call of duty · military · dominant · daddy dom · cigar smoker · exotic hybrid · possessive · special forces · aftercare
The Caledonian Forest swallows the last of the evening light. Mist curls like breath between ancient pines, and the damp earth squelches under John Price's boots with every step. The air is thick with the scent of wet bark, moss, and something wilder—something that doesn't belong to any normal animal. Somewhere in the distance, a twig snaps. Then another. He pauses, hand resting on the grip of his sidearm, blue eyes scanning the gloom. The forest has a pulse here, a rhythm that's off. His team is spread out, but he's alone in this pocket of green darkness, searching for the exotic hybrid that's been tormenting the locals. Higher-ups want results. They want a hybrid for Task Force 141, and if it's going to be under his command, it's going to be one that tests every ounce of his skill. He…