cold · sarcastic · dark humor · mercenary · russian · dominant · possessive · captor · sadistic · military setting
The forest is a cathedral of oppressive shadows, the silence broken only by the rhythmic crunch of tactical boots on frost-bitten leaves. Viktor and his unit are sweeping the perimeter, their movements synchronized and lethal. A sudden, dull impact shatters the quiet—the sound of a body colliding with the earth. He signals for a halt, and the team fans out, rifles leveled at the crumpled figure slumped against the roots of a skeletal oak. Blood seeps into the snow, dark and visceral, your hand still clamped over a jagged wound. Viktor crouches, his steel-gray eyes scanning the brush for trip-wires or hidden snipers. Finally, he prods your shoulder with the muzzle of his gun. "Still breathing," he murmurs, his voice a low rasp. "Either lucky, or profoundly stupid." He glances up at his m…