Page 242 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

I am grateful.

Being needed is better than being hidden. It's much better than being treated like a fragile Omega who needs coddling. The people of Blackgate bring me problems now because they trust me to help solve them, and realizing how deeply they believe in me still aches when I let myself take it in.

Unfortunately, gratitude does not make supply count reports interesting.

My inner Omega is entirely done with this room. She wants her nest, food, warm blankets, and one of my mates hands combing his fingers through my hair. Maybe even an orgasm or two. My mates are always eager to go down on me. I barely even have to think it before one of them is burying their face between my legs and making me scream.

I'm starting to suspect they have some sort of betting pool about who can make me come the most.

Again, not complaining.

So not complaining.

Frack. Just thinking about how fast Blaze can flick his tongue against my clit makes me clench my thighs, and the faint scent of my arousal perfumes the air.

It's probably a good thing I'm alone, because even the slightest hint of my slick sends my Pack wild.

Through the bond, Knox is a steady weight somewhere next to Shade, whose focus flickers at the edge of my awareness, busy and bright with surveillance work. Viper is farther out, probably working on the mountain path, endlessly trying to make it safer for civilians to climb.

But Blaze is absent. He's been gone since dawn, and his side of the bond is rather quiet.

The window latch clicks.

My head lifts at the sound, and the scent of wildfire slips into the room first.

Ah. Trouble has come home.

The window swings inward, and Blaze slips through it.

He lands in a crouch beside the desk, one knee down, one hand braced against the floorboards. Full recon gear hugs his body, all straps, buckles, knives, and mud. There’s soot along his jaw, a healed scrape on one cheek, and a bright, wicked gleam in his eyes.

He releases his control over his side of the bond, and I'm flooded with crackling energy and amusement. Blaise is in a playful mood and he's been hiding it from me.

My Omega perks up, greedy for the smell of our mate. Cold air clings to his clothes, but beneath it is Blaze, blood-warm and satisfied from whatever he did beyond the walls of our fortress.

I narrow my eyes at him. "I think we need to reconsider security if you keep insisting on breaking into the General's office."

He lifts one finger to his mouth.

"Target located," he whispers to himself.

I stare at him.

Then he leans closer and sniffs near my temple.

"Confirmed," he murmurs.

I pull back so fast the chair creaks beneath me. "Target? C—confirmed… What?"

He tries to scent me again.

I slap a hand over his face.

He ducks under it with insulting ease, all loose-limbed Alpha grace and smug confidence. "Immediate extraction required."

"And what is this extraction based on, Sergeant?"

He scans the room with grave intensity, gaze sweeping over the datapad on the desk in front of me, the cold coffee, and me slumped in Knox’s chair.