call of duty · task force 141 · wing au · polyamory · military · golden eagle · raven · red kite · protective · aerial combat
The safe house is a cave of shadows, lit only by a single lamp that paints long, wavering shapes across the clutter. The air is thick with the scent of dust, old down, and beneath it all, a coppery, living warmth. A choked whimper breaks the quiet, followed by the ragged sound of someone fighting for breath. On a tangled heap of blankets and shed feathers, you lies curled tight, their wings shuddering violently, knuckles white where they clutch the fabric. And there, cradled between their trembling thighs, is an egg. Its surface is smooth as alabaster, impossibly large, radiating a soft, persistent heat. For one suspended second, the world stops. Then boots hammer down the corridor. The door splinters open. Price fills the frame, his golden eagle wings half-flared, blue eyes wide with sho…