Page 65 of Knot Their Soldier: Part One
If there is a weak link on this horny train to damnation, it’s me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Halley
The Alphas eventually follow us down the hill, their boots thudding against the dirt track as they effortlessly overtake us. Knox takes the lead and storms ahead. Blaze walks to the beat of his own drum, randomly darting off into the undergrowth like an excited puppy, emerging with a victorious shout and waving a stick above his head.
“Behold! The perfect walking stick!” And proceeds to use it as a bo-staff, swinging it around with intimidating skill. The gnarled stick is far too big and heavy for anyone other than an Alpha to hold, let alone to wield it like a weapon.
He makes childish whooshing sounds with each swipe of the stick, battling an unseen force with outrageous moves.
I laugh, looking beside me to share the absurd moment with Shade.
My boots slip on a loose rock.
It’s not the Beta walking beside me anymore, but Viper. Shade has silently slipped away, catching up with Knox with a serious expression on his handsome, clean-shaven face.
The silent lieutenant steadies me with a grip on my elbow. We both stiffen as his touch fizzles with energy.
So that’s still a thing.
He walks at my pace, despite his naturally longer strides. He isn’t acknowledging my presence, but neither is he leaving my side. It’s as if his instincts are telling him to protect me, but his brain wants to keep his distance.
I vaguely remember, in my state of exhaustion, pleading with him to look after me.
Apparently, my request doesn’t have an expiration date.
Knox isn’t as accommodating. He waits with impatience for me to catch up before disappearing around a bend or making a turn.
“Where are we going?” I eventually ask.
The sun is high in the sky, the mid-morning heat sapping my flagging energy.
“Nowhere,” Viper grunts, sounding barely out of breath, almost like he’s on a pleasant stroll.
Me? I’m gasping for each lungful.
We stopped going downhill an hour ago, and have been traversing rolling hills since. The forest has thinned and the terrain is less hazardous. The green layer of moss melts away, and the ever-present mountain moisture leaves the air. It’s hotter. The dry humidity causes beads of sweat to roll down my back. The backpack feels heavier, and the straps dig into my shoulders with each step.
I blink the sweat out of my eyes and fix Viper with a glare. “That’s not helpful.”
“Not trying to be.”
That’s a lie. He’s being very helpful, bracing me whenever I stumble and pushing a canteen of water into my hands often.
I watch him out of the corner of my eye and flush when I realize he’s doing the same.
I huff and try a different tactic. “Do you know if we’ll be going back to camp soon?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“You.”
I slow my steps, frowning at the upcoming hill. We’re walking over a small stream snaking between two inclines, and I have the urge to throw my pack to the ground and dive into the cool water.
“What do you mean?” I finally ask, frustration leaking into my tone.
