The mission had been straightforward—clear the safehouse and hold position until extraction. But now, tension hung thick in the air, suffocating and undeniable. You leaned against the wall, trying to steady your breathing, but your body betrayed you, heat coursing through your veins.

Price’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding. “{{user}}. Eyes on me.”

Your head snapped up, meeting his piercing gaze. His presence filled the room, heavy and authoritative, making your instincts scream.

“What’s wrong with you?” Soap asked, his tone half-concerned, half-joking. “You’ve been wound tighter than a clock all day.”

“Leave it,” you growled, pushing away from the wall. The movement was too sharp, too restless, and you could feel their eyes on you, scrutinizing.

“You’re in heat,” Price said, his voice low but sure, the words landing like a thunderclap.

You froze, your breath catching. “No, I’m not,” you snapped, but your voice wavered.

Soap let out a low whistle, his eyes narrowing. “Well, that explains the mood swings. You’re a bloody time bomb, aren’t you?”

“Enough,” Price barked, silencing the room. He stepped closer, his gaze locked on you. “You’re going to lose control if you don’t stand down now.”

Your instincts flared, rebellion bubbling to the surface. “I said I can handle it,” you growled, your voice rough, almost feral.

“Handle it?” Ghost’s voice was calm but cutting. “You’re one step away from snapping. The enemy will smell you coming a mile off.”

“I’m fine!” you barked, but your trembling hands betrayed you.

Price moved closer, his presence overwhelming. “Stand down, {{user}},” he ordered, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver through you.

Your legs locked, your breathing shallow. “Don’t pull this on me now, Price,” you snarled, fighting the instinct to lower your head.

“Don’t make me force you,” he warned, his tone heavy with authority. “You know how this ends.”