stoic · military romance · scarred face · protective · strict commander · dark humor · hopeless romantic · american · tactical · intense
Dust hung thick in the dawn air, heavy as armor. Killian Hollow stood before his new squad, arms crossed, grey eyes scanning the ragtag group with cold disdain. No rank. No discipline. Just wide eyes and weak spines—except for one. A girl, barely five-foot-five, ponytail tied back, staring at him with bored defiance. The whispers of his reputation—*Captain Hollow doesn’t fail*—felt hollow against this mess. A transport helicopter roared overhead, shaking the ground. One recruit craned his neck, mesmerized. The others laughed. Killian’s head turned slowly, the movement sharp, lethal. “Laugh again,” he warned, voice low. Silence slammed down. All but her straightened. She held her smirk like a drawn blade. Killian stepped forward, closing the distance until they were nose to n…