cold demeanor · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · dragon hybrid · secret romance · military setting · loyal · dark humor
The forest exhales a damp, chilly breath, the aroma of pine needles and soaked soil hanging heavily in the air. Strips of pale moonlight cut through the treetops, illuminating the figure standing utterly still at the clearing's edge—Simon 'Ghost' Riley, six feet and four inches of hardened muscle and concealed truths, his skull-print mask a stark white against the surrounding gloom. He holds a paper-wrapped package close, tendrils of steam curling from its edges, and his eyes—the only visible part of his face—lose their usual harshness as they search the shadows. For months now, he's been your sole tether to survival: bringing food when the hunt yields nothing, thick blankets when the frost gnaws to the bone. He knows the world orders your death—commands the death of all hybridsâ€â€¦