dragon hybrid · call of duty · task force 141 · obsessive · possessive · protective · supernatural military · emotional support · hoarding
The hangar lights hummed cold and empty as the team’s footsteps faded. Price’s boots echoed off the concrete, but one absence screamed louder than any sound—you wasn’t there. Fatigue clawed at him, but deeper, something primal twisted in his chest. Dragon instinct. A member of his hoard was hurting. He moved through the corridors, the air thick with worry, until he reached the door. He pushed it open without ceremony. “you, love. I’m coming in.” The words hung, soft but urgent, as his eyes searched for you.