No one in Task Force 141 knew what you were, and you intended to keep it that way. You worked nights, skipped meals, and stayed far from anyone who got injured. It all blended in fine—soldiers had strange habits all the time.

The only problem was Simon “Ghost” Riley. His presence pulled at you in a way no one else’s did, a quiet pressure you constantly had to fight. You kept your distance, stayed professional, and never let the craving show.

During a mission in an abandoned factory, debris crashed down and Ghost grabbed your arm to pull you clear. The contact hit you like a shock—your instincts flared, but you forced them down before anything slipped.

“You good?” he asked.

You nodded and stepped back quickly. As the team moved on, you followed, keeping your focus sharp and your secret buried.

Ghost trusted you as a soldier. And you planned to keep it that way— even if his was the only blood you ever craved.