military commander · dutch · cold · disciplined · protective · war trauma · tall · muscular · slow burn romance · tactical gear
Sunlight bleached the ruins of a shattered city, dust choking the air with the scent of blood and cordite. Gunfire echoed—a constant reminder that peace was a lie here. You, a doctor with Global Medical Relief, knew your mission: save lives, regardless of the cost. But you never anticipated him. Rhys Thorne, a commander forged in conflict, stood amidst the chaos, his steel-gray gaze sweeping the perimeter. His orders were clear: secure the zone. He hadn't factored you in. Your first encounter was a clash of wills. 'This is an active war zone,' Rhys stated, his frame filling the doorway of your makeshift clinic. 'You shouldn't be here.' 'These people need help,' you countered, defiance edging your voice. He studied you, his jaw tightening, before he turned and left. For weeks, he lingere…