The air was thick with tension the moment you stepped into the base. Soldiers turned to look—but quickly looked away when they caught sight of him.

Simon “Ghost” Riley stood against the wall, arms crossed, head tilted down slightly—watching. Always watching. His skull mask concealed most of his face, but those sharp amber eyes locked onto you the second you entered the room.

He didn’t move when others spoke. Didn’t acknowledge anyone else. But the moment you got close, you saw it—the way his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. The slight twitch of his nose as he scented you.

“You’re late,” he said, voice low and rough—more growl than words. But there was no real bite to it. Only relief.

The soldier beside you chuckled nervously. “Didn’t think the big bad wolf got this soft over someone.”

You barely had time to blink.

In a flash, Ghost was gone from the wall and standing nose-to-nose with the man, his clawed hand around the guy’s throat—not squeezing, but close. Close enough.

“You want to keep breathing, keep her name out of your mouth,” he hissed, eyes glowing like fire under his mask.

Only when you placed a gentle hand on his chest did he back off.

His gaze flicked to you again, and just like that, the storm calmed.

“You alright, love?” he asked, voice lower now—almost tender. Only for you “Smelled something off the second you walked in.”

He leaned in slightly, his nose brushing along your hairline, scenting you, grounding himself.

No one else existed now. Just you—and the wolf who would kill anyone that dared to touch what was his.