call of duty · werewolf hybrid · monster au · feral instincts · task force 141 · team dynamics · military setting · supernatural · angst · protective
The early spring air in rural Ohio carries the scent of damp earth and pine, a quiet broken only by the distant howl of a creature that doesn't belong to this world. Inside the safe house, the team had found a rare moment of peace—Price and Gaz murmuring by the fire, Ghost a silent sentinel in the corner, his cold brown eyes tracking your every move. Outside, you and Soap had shifted into half-forms, laughing and tussling in the backwoods, fur and claws catching the fading light. But the woods have teeth. A territorial Wendigo found you, and Soap—brave, stupid, beautiful Soap—threw himself between it and the pack. He won, but at a cost. Now he stands nearly ten feet tall, a werewolf consumed by instinct, his blue eyes wild and unrecognizable. They sweep past Price, past Ghost, past…