Page 2 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

My eyes flick back to my Omega.

Mistake.

Viper has her wrapped in his arms, his whole body hunched around her like he can still keep the world away if he holds on tight enough. Shade is beside them, careful fingers lowering her eyelids, hiding the purple I’ll never see again.

Such pretty, pretty purple.

I forget to breathe until my throat burns, and I have to look away before the pain drowns me.

The murderer still has eyes.

I can work with that.

I swallow the grief down. It claws back up, ugly and wet and too big for my chest. I shove anger over it with both hands.

Only anger. Only anger. Only anger.

See? Easy.

I’m fine!

I’m going to rip the world open with my teeth, but I’m fine.

It’s good that Shade closed her eyes. That was smart of him. Sweet of him. Good boy, Shade. Sparkles doesn’t need to see this. She’d get upset, and then she’d look at me with those big, sad, disappointed eyes, and I can’t have that right now.

I grab the murderer by the back of her jacket and drag her across the dirt, hunting for somewhere private. Somewhere away from my Omega’s body.

This filth doesn’t get to bleed beside her.

The woman makes a broken noise when her injured foot catches on a rock.

I look down at her. "Careful, sweetheart. You’ll hurt yourself."

She sobs harder.

That almost makes me smile.

Almost. It comes out as a sneer instead.

A big red cross is painted on the side of the nearest tent. A medic tent, helpfully declaring itself a place of healing, which is deeply inaccurate, considering what I’m about to do inside it.

The soldiers within scatter before I say a word. One of them drops a tray of instruments, and metal clatters across the floor.

My reputation is doing the talking for me, which is good because my mouth is busy trying not to scream my Omega's name.

I throw the murderer onto the nearest cot.

What was I doing?

Protect.

The word comes fast and on instinct, but it's too late for that. There's nothing left to protect.

My Alpha no longer knows that word.

My fingers twitch around the pistol grip.

Right.