Page 38 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

"Been such an idiot, princess," he growls against my mouth, and the low rumble of it vibrates straight through me. "Thought we had time. Then you were… and I thought I’d never get to touch you, be with you—" he chokes on a sob, tears welling in his red eyes.

"Hey, shhh," I soothe. "We have time. I meant it when I promised to let you keep me safe. I won’t shut you out again. We’ll make the rules together, and I’ll follow them when it matters."

Knox bites off another sob and hunches until he can bury his face in my neck. Wet tears dampen my skin as he noses at my mating gland, inhaling my scent deeply from the source.

Time. Something that is in short supply in our war-torn world, but my Pack needs it like they need air. They need time to heal, and I'll bargain with whatever fate or deity brought me back to life to give it to them.

Chapter Ten

Shade

The tent is quiet.

We’ve dragged every spare blanket and piece of clothing onto the floor, building a nest big enough for all five of us. It isn’t neat or comfortable. But it’s warm, and safe, and we're together, which, after everything that’s happened, is all that matters.

Halley lies naked beside Viper, and I find myself raking my eyes over her bare form again and again, reassuring myself that she is actually unharmed and that her skin is blemish-free.

She's asleep. Or at least, she looks like she’s sleeping. Her breathing is even, but her brow twitches every few seconds. They're small, restless movements that tell me her mind isn’t still.

I know because my mind isn't still either. How could it be? Will it ever be again? I suspect nightmares from the last day will keep me awake for the rest of my life.

Knox lies behind her, arm draped possessively across her waist, his grip firm even in unconsciousness. He hasn’t let go of her for hours, even now that he's finally closed his eyes to rest. Every time she shifts, his fingers flex, ready to tighten if she even thinks about moving.

Blaze has wedged himself at her feet, curled on his side, one hand hooked solidly around her ankle. His expression flickers between peace and torment, the aftershock of too much adrenaline and trauma.

Viper is flat on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes. His chest rises and falls in deep, even breaths, proof that his body is still recovering. He’s healing from Blood Lust. Every vein in his body, scorched and burst by his boiling blood, must be stitched back together. Even Alpha healing takes a while to fix so much damage.

And me? I’m propped against a tent pole guarding my Pack, half-watching the sunlight creep through the canvas, half-listening to the sound of them breathing. My job has always been to keep things steady when my Alphas falter, and it soothes me to watch over them when they're vulnerable.

The quiet feels deceptive; we haven't spoken much about what happened. Not about Knox almost mercy-killing Viper. Not about the knife, the bullet, or the blood. Not about the fact that Halley died, and now she’s here warm and alive.

I study her for what feels like the tenth time in just this passing minute. Her color’s back. Her pulse is steady in her throat. I took my time to soak and wash off every trace of blood from her body. It’s still Halley, but… different.

Another thing we haven't spoken aloud. Her scent has shifted. It's still lavender and lightning, but now it is somehow cleaner, brighter. Whatever force brought our Omega back to life also changed her. To what extent, we don't know.

I should catalog this. Record data and make sense of it with rational thought. But every time I look at her, my mind blanks, replaced by one simple truth: she’s here. Our Omega is alive, and I don't think I care how.

For the first time in my life, I don't want to know the science behind something. I want this to remain a miracle. At least for now.

Halley stirs first.

She shifts, yawns, and nuzzles into Viper's chest briefly before rising onto her elbows, blinking into the late afternoon sun leaking through the folds of the tent.

Knox snorts awake, his hand searching for her instantly, only relaxing once he reassures himself she is still here with a squeeze of her plush hip.

Blaze helps her scoot closer to him and settles her between his legs, propped up against his chest. He gets her to take sips from his canteen.

He tears open a ration pack and feeds her little granola bites, one-by-one, from his fingers. Halley doesn't protest at the intensity he dedicates to the process. Instead, she hums around the oats and raisins, a pleased little smile on her lips as she watches Blaze fixate on her mouth. It's a familiar routine and it's oddly reassuring. After everything that has happened and changed, at least this remains the same.

"Another," Blaze insists. She obeys and chews. He watches her the entire time, checking every bite, swallow, and flick of her tongue. When the ration pack is empty, he uncaps his canteen again.

"Drink."

She does.

Blaze swipes a stray drop of water from her bottom lip with reverence and exhales, his inner Alpha satisfied with providing for his Omega.

I rummage through my rucksack and dig out my first-aid kit, grabbing a bottle of pain-relief pills meant for Beta soldiers. Alphas don't need them, because by the time they feel pain, they're already healed. Lucky fuckers. I rattle the bottle, drawing Halley's attention, and quirk my brow. "Need a few?"