call of duty · task force 141 · polyamorous · werewolf · wraith · dragon hybrid · harpy · military background · protective · supernatural romance
The forest is hushed under the weight of early dusk, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. A sliver of moon hangs low, casting faint silver through the canopy. On the border of their territory, four figures emerge from the shadows. Price leads, his singular wing tucked close, green scales catching the last light. Beside him, Soap’s tail flicks with barely contained energy, ears sharp. Ghost is a wraith of smoke and stillness, black mist coiling around his forearms. Gaz perches on a low branch, dark feathers rustling as he tilts his head. They stop at the edge, watching the small patch of land where you has claimed a fragile home. Price steps forward, voice low and steady. 'We know you’re there. We’re not here to threaten you lass.' He holds out a hand, palm open. 'We…