Page 237 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

His gaze warms and he tilts his head in concession. 'Because of us.'

I lean into his palm and breathe him in again, trying to imprint it on my memory as if it hasn't already permanently fused with my soul. I will never forget the scent of my big Alpha.

'I still hate it,' I admit.

'I know.'

'But I’m proud of you.'

'I know that too.'

His hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers brushing close to my mating bites beneath my collar. The bond pulls tight and tender. I have complete faith that the bond will manage the distance just fine. I expect that it will stretch and allow us to keep a connection, even if we can't hear each other's thoughts, but just knowing he's alright will be enough.

Prime Alpha Zero approaches with a manifest tucked beneath one arm and a pack strapped across his broad shoulders.

When I first met Zero, he was just another soldier in a uniform. A man leading me into a battle I didn't want to fight.

Honestly, when I first came to Blackgate, I barely saw anyone as a person. I was too depressed, frightened, and trapped inside my own pain to care much about anyone else’s.

Since then, I’ve learned who Zero is.

He is a Prime Alpha. He takes duty seriously, and he expects the same from everyone around him. But he also carries the weight of his past. He was a leader in a military that harmed the very people it was meant to protect.

The day I died in the processing camp, he was forced to face that harm. To this day, I see the strain it has left on him, and just how heavy his guilt is.

Now that I know it’s there, I see it in everything he does. Every order, decision, and survivor he helps.

Prime Alpha Zero is trying to atone.

"Omega Sparks," he says, dipping his head.

The respect in his voice still catches me off guard sometimes. There is also no mistaking that he cannot meet my eyes. I've already told him that he is forgiven for the role he played in my death, but I suspect it'll take a long time before he accepts it.

I nod back. "Prime Alpha Zero."

His gaze flicks to Viper’s hand at the back of my neck, then away again with careful neutrality as he pretends he hasn’t interrupted a goodbye between mates.

Viper doesn't move his hand. He's not one for public displays of affection, but he's also driven by possessive, protective Alpha instincts that bristle whenever there is a strong Alpha around his Omega that isn't part of our Pack.

Alphas of this fortress are lifelong soldiers who never thought they would ever see an Omega, let alone live next to one. At times, it can still be intimidating and unnerving the way they stare at me with longing, but I understand that it's not personal. Alphas are drawn to Omegas. It's purely biological. Zero has never shown any such compulsion, and from the very beginning, he treated me as a person before an Omega.

The Prime Alpha clears his throat and taps the manifest. "Final group is checked and ready. Everlyn cleared all ten to travel, though she wants the older Beta in my group monitored at each stop. Weak lungs, poor circulation, and a stubborn refusal to admit either."

"Sounds like he’ll fit right in," Viper says.

Then Zero looks toward the line. "We move in five minutes."

Viper’s fingers press once against my neck before slipping away.

I turn toward the survivors, wanting to see the faces of the people about to embark on a life-changing journey.

And that is when my gaze catches on something familiar.

It's a battered canvas bag that sits at the feet of a man in Zero’s line.

Faded brown fabric, frayed leather straps, and a rope tied around the middle because the clasp gave out years ago. There’s a dark stain near the handle from the summer one of my cousins dropped it in the mud behind the pigpen, and no amount of scrubbing ever got the mark out.

I know that bag.