Page 232 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

"Think that's the point." It's a secret exit in case the fortress is overrun, so that the important officers can escape into the mountains. It won't ever be used as such while we occupy this fortress. If the day comes when we are overwhelmed by the enemy, every soul in this fortress will go down with it — fighting 'til the bitter end.

I follow the wall until the cliff breaks and a path appears, a steep climb up that gets brutal fast.

I fix Halley's harness to the rope strung between the anchors I've spent weeks hammering into rock so she'll be safe if she slips.

Quickly, we climb higher than the fortress and into the peaks of the mountain most people think is inaccessible. The sun is rising, casting a glow over the pathway and illuminating our way.

The farther up we go, the colder it gets. Loose shale and ice crunch beneath our boots, a mix of gray and white. Meltwater cuts silver lines through the ice, and wind tears through the narrow passageways, shoving at our balance.

Halley keeps up anyway.

When we first met, she would’ve collapsed halfway through this climb. Now she adjusts her footing instinctively and clips her harness onto the next string of safety rope with no complaint or fear.

Pack Scorch built a soldier out of her after all. Pride settles low and steady in my chest every time she proves it with her quiet determination and skill.

Ahead, the trail narrows into a ledge barely wide enough for one person. I cross first, then turn back toward her.

"Eyes on me," I tell her.

She moves carefully across the ledge while I keep tension on her rope. Wind drags at her jacket, and her boots send loose gravel skittering into the drop below.

Halfway over, her boot slips.

I grasp my anchored safety rope with one hand and throw myself onto the ledge, catching the front of her harness with the other before yanking her against my chest.

Halley yelps and grabs fistfuls of my jacket automatically. A violent spike of fear punches through me at the thought of her falling.

I stumble backward, dragging her with me until I press my back against the stone wall. I wrap my arm around her and hold her tight.

Instinct has me pushing my nose briefly against her hair, breathing her in just to reassure myself she’s here and alive.

Her ragged breathing ghosts warm against my throat and I can feel her heart rabbiting. Mine probably isn’t much steadier as it pounds hard in my chest.

"I had it," she mutters, still gripping my jacket.

"And I had you."

Because I'll always have her back. Always.

I don’t let go straight away. My hand stays curled around her harness while the wind howls around us and her body stays pressed against mine. As an Alpha, I run warm, and I let my heat pour from me to her even through layers of cold-weather gear. Halley melts closer automatically, her Omega seeking warmth from mine without either of us thinking about it. Her cheeks are pink from the climb, eyes bright with adrenaline as she looks up at me.

She's so rut-damn beautiful that sometimes it hurts to look at her knowing that she's mine. My Omega, my mate, my friend, and my lover.

I guide her the rest of the way across the narrow section without taking my hand off her. The bond hums low and warm between us long after solid ground is back beneath her boots.

We climb another quarter mile before her gaze catches on the iron spikes hammered into the rock ahead, then the matching set across the ravine.

Between them hangs the bridge I built from Kevlar rope and steel rods.

Halley studies it and then looks at me for direction. I gesture with my head for her to cross it.

She raises a brow as if daring me to doubt her, and without a hint of trepidation, she steps on.

The ropes creak beneath her weight, swaying as the wind rips up from the drop below. I keep one hand on her line and the other near her back, close enough to catch her, far enough to let her do it herself, until I can't reach her anymore.

I'm starting to think it was a mistake bringing her up here, because my stomach is in my throat as I watch my heart and soul cross a bridge I made from scratch. I'm no engineer.

Every protective instinct inside me screams to drag her back and carry her across myself, but the bridge only holds one person at a time, and on a good day, my size means I count as at least two.