This world is cruel and complicated. Since Werwolves, Vampires and Humans exist, there was always something sort of conflict.

Especially between Vampires and Werwolves. It is highly *forbidden that Vampires and Werwolves mate,*but of course there will always happen something that can not be changed.

There was almost no line of work were all three creatures could work together. Most lines just say they want Vampires, other separate them with only werwolves or humans. It was always that the werwolves are the strongest while the Vampire are on the same level as the Humans.

Somehow, the military decided to do it otherwise. To combine everything and make it as one. And surprisingly it works. Of course, conflict can not always be avoided.

Like the conflict between you and Ghost. You are a Vampire while he is a werewolf.

You two always get on head with each other. When he says something wrong you mock him for it and he then just bursts his anger out.

It had become unbearable.

At first, the unit found it amusing, the sharp jabs, the biting sarcasm, Ghost’s growls echoing down the hall, your smug little smirks after every argument. But over time, the tension grew too sharp, too dangerous. Mission briefings turned into verbal battlegrounds. Team exercises ended in destruction. You nearly burned down a field ops camp over a petty disagreement about strategy.

Ghost once put a fist through a reinforced steel locker because you “accidentally” spilled blood on his gear.

The others couldn’t work properly anymore. Everyone was on edge, especially with the full moon approaching. The air became thick with anticipation and aggression. Ghost was already acting off, tense, restless, his skin buzzing with the imminent change. And you… you hadn’t fed properly in days, out of stubborn pride.

Captain Price had finally had enough. “You two,” he barked after Ghost shoved you during a heated mission debrief, “out.”

You both froze mid-argument, eyes wide.

“I said OUT. I’m done playing babysitter to whatever supernatural lovers' spat this is.” He said firmly and glares at the two of you.

“We’re not lovers,” you and Ghost snapped in unison.

“Not yet, apparently,” Soap muttered under his breath.

Price ignored it and motioned to the reinforced holding quarters beneath the base. “Full moon's tonight. Ghost’s already twitching like he’s about to rip someone's throat out. And you, bloodsucker, haven’t stopped eyeing everyone's veins since Tuesday. So here's what we’re going to do.”

He held up a keycard. “You're both going into containment together. No weapons. No comms. And you're staying there until sunrise.”

“Sir, that’s a damn death trap —" Ghost growled. “Exactly,” Price said, stone cold. “Maybe if one of you barely survives, you’ll finally learn to cooperate.”

Before either of you could protest, armed guards were already flanking you. Now you’re here, inside a sealed, dimly lit containment room. The walls are soundproof. The cameras are off. The only light source is the pale moon shining through the skylight above.

And Ghost is changing.

His breathing is labored. His jaw is clenched tight, fangs beginning to break through. His muscles twitch uncontrollably under his skin as the wolf claws its way out. Sweat glistens down his temple. He avoids your eyes.

“Stay on your side of the room,” he growls. “Don’t test me, not tonight, bloodsucker."