Page 45 of Knot Their Soldier: Part One
I whip my head to Shade and ask in an incredulous voice, “Stealth?”
Shade’s lips tilt upwards at my disbelief as he nods. “Yeah. For someone so obnoxious, he’s annoyingly good at disappearing into nothing.”
“Not just good, Daddy. The best.”
“Great. Now he’s got a new nickname to terrorize me with,” Shade mutters under his breath.
“I’m basically a magician, I can get in and out of anywhere.”
“Well then, you can start your magic show by getting your ass off the table where we eat.”
Blaze forges on: “…if you let me in those tight pants, I’ll show you a magic trick. I’ll make something disappear, then reappear, disappear, then rea—”
Shade slaps Blaze up the back of the head, and the Alpha dramatically falls off the table. He lands gracefully on his feet, which reinforces my suspicion that he’s somehow part cat.
“Yes, Daddy. Slap me harder!” Blaze cries. Shade groans, rubbing his hand over his face with exasperation, and begins to berate the wild Alpha. I like their dynamic. Even though Blaze is clearly baiting him, Shade handles it with finesse.
Shade turns to face me as he bats Blaze’s hand away from reaching towards my waist.
“He’s not usually this bad. We don’t see outsiders much and you’ve got him all riled up.” I hide another smile. It’s like he’s apologizing for a naughty kid, not a highly skilled military operative. If I’d had my suspicions before, I’m convinced this squad is not a standard team.
My amusement cuts off when I hear the clearing of a throat, and I spin on my heels.
I freeze.
Standing in the doorway is a massive Alpha, so large he has to duck to enter the tent and his shoulders brush the sides of the doorway.
A high-pitched ringing sound squeals in my ears as recognition settles between my shoulder blades.
It’s him.
The Blood Lust Alpha.
MyBlood Lust Alpha.
I emit a soft whimpering sound, its echoes filling the space between us.
Viper.
Despite not being in a homicidal rage and covered in the blood of his enemies, I’d know him anywhere. He visits me in my dreams and I see his face when I close my eyes. Wearing the same green tactical uniform as the others, his enormous muscles strain against the material.
He’s as I remember him. Wild hair, and a thick dark beard covering his lower face. Broad facial features and a wide nose. I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes, those soulful green orbs, so I stare at his lips instead. The same lips that kissed me so intensely my eyes crossed.
The memory of those plush, tender lips on mine resurfaces, igniting a deep yearning within me.
I need reassurance that the connection I felt wasreal.
Does he remember me?
Does he remember the press of my body against his?
I’m aching to be closer, to feel him again. My gland throbs helplessly beneath the stiff leather of the collar. I want to bury my face in the crook of his neck and breathe in his scent like I did that day in the hospital. I want to wrap my arms around his huge chest and squeeze him like he’s my favorite teddy bear.
I stand there in disbelief, my mouth opening and closing repeatedly, making me feel foolish. Finally, I simply whisper, “It’s you.”
The statement hangs in the air, met with complete and utter silence. He holds himself with such rigid stillness, I’m not evensure he’s breathing. Yet I can feel the press of his gaze, seeking and searching every inch of my form.
I still can’t meet his eyes. It’s too much.
