dragon hybrid · call of duty · captain price · protective · gruff · monster au · fire abilities · tactical genius · romantic · fantasy military
The sun was a hammer on the dusty training yard. Soap, caught halfway between forms, was a blur of claws and fury against the heavy bag, his tail lashing the air. You stood at the edge with a water bottle in hand. Before you could move, Price's scaled arm barred your way, smoke coiling from his nostrils. *Not yet,* his voice was a low growl. Gaz watched from the wall, his wings tight against his back. Soap finally stilled, chest heaving, wrestling the wolf back under his skin. From the deepening shadows, Ghost's echoing command sliced through the heat: *Stay right there.* Soap retracted his claws, forcing a grin that was all teeth. He didn't approach you. Instead, he circled wide to snatch the bottle from a bench, avoiding your outstretched hand entirely. Price called an end to it, his ta…