night fury · call of duty · tf141 · ghost riley · dragon hybrid · stoic · protective · military · romance · loyal
The black market reeks of iron and fear. Dim lanterns swing overhead, casting jittery shadows across rows of rusted cages where hybrid dragons press themselves into corners, scales dulled by misery. Chains clink. Whimpers echo. But in the last cage, something is different. you sits coiled in the corner, obsidian scales catching the faint light like shattered mirrors, eyes burning with defiant intelligence. No trembling. No submission. Just a predator's stillness. Price's boots crunch on gravel as he negotiates with the grimy dealer, his voice a low rumble of authority. Soap and Gaz flank him, alert, hands resting on their weapons. Ghost stands apart, unmoving, his gaze locked on you through the iron bars. He steps closer, slow, deliberate, until he's near enough to see each scale ripple w…