Page 235 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

Below us, the path winds down into Blackreach, open and waiting.

For the first time since the war ended, the future feels bigger than Blackgate Fortress.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Halley

A month ago, Viper showed me a hidden path carved through stone, ice, and stubborn Alpha devotion. Today, he is an escort for survivors ready to start their lives in Blackreach.

It's just after breakfast, and the northern side of the courtyard next to the secret exit gate is busy.

Ten survivors stand in an uneven line with packs at their feet, wrapped in thick clothing to battle the chill of the mountain peak. Some have nothing more than a small knapsack and rolled bedding, while others have bags so overstuffed that the seams strain. I can't blame them for over-packing. They came here with nothing and are starting a new life in a strange land with only whatever they can carry over the mountain.

Everlyn is giving them all one last check-up, inspecting swollen ankles, listening to coughs, and tucking extra ration packets into the hands of anyone who looks like pride might keep them from asking for more.

Near the secret gate, climbing ropes hang from iron hooks. Weatherproof maps, not datapads, because there won't be a scrap of electricity where they're going, lie weighted beneath stones on a supply table.

Above it all, the mountain waits.

It rises beyond the open gate, pale and brutal beneath the morning light, with Viper’s route disappearing into it if you know where to look.

I stop at the edge of the yard and breathe it in.

This is what hope looks like now.

A line of frightened survivors ready to start a new life, knowing we'll stay here to guard the entrance to their sanctuary.

My eyes fall on Viper.

He's already watching me.

He stands near the supply table with a pack slung over one shoulder, dressed in cold-weather gear and a climbing harness. His trusty sniper rifle sits across his back, a blade is strapped to his thigh, and a pistol is tucked beneath his jacket, visible only when he shifts, because apparently there are never too many weapons for a man who considers protection a love language.

The bond warms at once.

I cross the yard, weaving around soldiers and supply crates until I’m close enough to scent him. Viper smells like he always has, roses and gunpowder, but now there is the faintest trace of our nest clinging to his collar.

My Omega preens at the claim on our Alpha.

He reaches for me the second I’m within range, fingers closing around my wrist and tugging me into his space. His thumb brushes slowly and deliberately over my pulse, checking me the way he always does before he lets himself soften. Always my big protector.

'You came to see me off,' he says through the bond. There are too many people around, and he's never been one to enjoy being on display.

'I came to make sure you weren’t planning to sneak out before saying goodbye.'

His mouth curves. 'I’m wounded you think so little of me.'

'Not that long ago you kept disappearing into the mountains for days and eventually came back with a secret road, so I don't think I'm being paranoid at all,' I reply with a raised brow, but I don't hold my firm expression for long.

I nuzzle into him, rising onto my toes, straining so I can reach the warm skin above his scarf. Whenever I kiss him there, the Alpha in him answers with a low, possessive sound that slips straight under my skin and wakes every needy Omega instinct inside me. I love it.

'Yes, but my secret road was romantic.'

"It’s a very impressive secret road," I murmur against his throat, muffled by the scarf in my way. This close, I can get away with talking aloud without anyone overhearing us. "But it doesn’t get to take credit for the romance. That was all my handsome mate."

Viper huffs a quiet laugh and bends down for me, taking pity on my tragically inconvenient height. I wrap my arms around his neck and slide my nose beneath his scarf exactly where I want it, breathing him in before licking a slow stripe over the exposed skin. Salt, cold air, and Viper. I hum at the taste and press a trail of kisses along his neck.

The growl that rumbles out of him is rough and possessive as expected.