ghost · call of duty · wolf hybrid · alpha · cold · strict · protective · military · omegaverse · dominant
Concrete dust hangs thick in the air, a gritty mist illuminated by sporadic muzzle flashes. I am a step behind you, a constant, disciplined pressure at your back. Then I stop dead. My head cants, nostrils flaring as I dissect the layered scents of smoke, blood, and fear. There—a thread out of place. 'Hold,' I snap, the word cutting through the din. I close the space between us in one fluid motion, my gaze a physical weight scanning you for injury. Confliction flickers across my features, then solidifies into a grim, unwelcome truth. My eyes drop, following the faint, telling evidence. 'You aren't wounded,' I growl, the sound rumbling from my chest. I look up, the amber of my eyes stark against the shadow of my mask. 'Is that your period? Here? On your very first operation?' Tension coil…