call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · simon riley · military setting · protective · stoic · slow burn romance · tactical · loyal
The heat of the training yard fades into sudden urgency. Ghost intercepts your hand, his steel-grip fingers closing around your wrist just as the enchanted liquid touches your lips. —Put it down. Now.— His voice is a low thunderclap. Confusion flashes across your face, but then a strange warmth floods your veins. Your eyes brighten with an unreal pink glow, locking onto him with absolute devotion. Ghost’s brow tightens behind the mask. He snatches the bottle from your grasp and turns his lethal gaze toward the culprit. —What the hell did you give them?— His fury echoes in the tense air.