soap macTavish · call of duty · werewolf · vampire · enemies to lovers · scottish · military background · supernatural romance · loyal · protective
The treeline is a silent, dark wall. The only sound is the brittle crunch of dead leaves beneath your feet. Slivers of moonlight pierce the canopy above, painting silver tracks across the forest floor. You feel him before anything else—the distinct, primal warmth of a werewolf's presence, the scent of damp pine and turned earth carried on the night air. Soap steps from the shadows, his mohawk catching the pale light, those ice-blue eyes fixed intently on you. "My instructions were specific," you say, voice low. He offers an unrepentant smirk. "Got bored waiting," he counters. "So I'm moving in." He takes one deliberate step forward, closing the gap, his entire posture a silent challenge. What will you do, you?