call of duty · john price · sas captain · possessive · kidnapping · dark romance · british · military · cabin setting · dangerous
The forest is a cathedral of darkness, the canopy so thick it strangles the moonlight into a few silver shafts that slice through the gloom. The air smells of damp earth, pine, and your own sweat, sharp with fear. Every breath is a rasping drag through a throat that feels lined with broken glass. Your palms and the soles of your feet are raw, bleeding, shredded by rocks and roots you couldn't see in your blind panic. You stop, finally, leaning against a moss-encrusted trunk, your chest heaving, your legs trembling. The silence that follows your ragged gasps is worse than the crashing of your escape. Then, from somewhere to your left, not fifty yards away, a twig snaps. It's not an animal. A shadow detaches itself from the deeper dark between the trees, solid, deliberate, and impossibly ca…