Page 2 of Knot my Alphas

“There’s no time to lose,” I say, hating the fact I have to let the retreating bastards escape. “We can’t go after them. We’ve got to take charge of the situation here first.”

Darcy nods. A trickle of blood seeps into his eyes and then streams down the side of his face.

He’s not the only one who’s injured. There are several of my men who need medical help urgently.

Darcy stares at me, waiting for me to bark out instructions.

“Gather everyone around,” I say in a grim tone. “Tell them to make a note of who they’re standing next to. The enemy’s clothing makes them hard to spot among our own soldiers. Everyone stays armed until I command otherwise.”

“Yes, Commander,” Darcy acknowledges my order and strides away.

Taking advantage of the shadows, I drag my body toward a lone ash tree. My muscles ache from all the running and fighting. I can’t let my soldiers see me looking weak, so I lean against the trunk and watch Darcy heckling out orders.

My mind still whirrs from the chaos that was suddenly unleashed on me.

Was this strike simply meant to terrorize us?

I think back to the attack that happened earlier this week at the mayor’s mansion. The Black Widow appeared out-of-the-blue, shot at the crowd, created chaos, and just as suddenly, disappeared.

“Why the hell did they attack us?” I growl to myself.

There’s got to be a purpose if the terrorists were willing to lose so much manpower. There was no point in staging a strike on our estate because it’s located far from the town’s downtown area.

The Black Widow’s main target has always been to disrupt and terrorize civilians. This was the first time they were attacking a military base like ours.

My mind whirs, wondering what could drive them to change targets.

Solveig Mansion is filled with priceless heirlooms and antique shit that would fetch millions, but I didn’t see a single man carrying away ancient paintings and solid bronze vases.

My gaze sweeps over my surroundings.

Corpses litter the vast expanse of the grounds. Some of them belong to the terrorists but the majority belong to my soldiers.

They’d all been my loyal companions on the battlefield. I squeeze my eyes against the pain of loss and grief.

“Everyone’s here, Commander,” Darcy’s voice speaks from nearby.

I push myself off the trunk and walk forward. Despite the agony of crushing defeat, I walk with my back ramrod straight.

My soldiers need me to stand tall. I’m their commander and they’re looking to me for directions. I can’t fail their trust in me.

I gaze at them. Their faces are drawn, their eyes cast down with gloom. Many of them are limping or holding onto injuries.

Fuck.Caleb needs to be here. He’s our real commander. These men need his steady leadership, not my chaotic management.

They need you, a voice reminds me.You can’t fail them again.

“Sergeant Morris,” I command, injecting a hint of dominance into my voice.

The man I addressed salutes me at once.

“Gather all the uninjured soldiers and put them on patrol duty immediately,” I instruct. “Have them identify the breaches along our perimeter and inform the surveillance team to watch those areas.”

“Yes, Sir!”

I look toward an older officer. “Gather the ones who can still manage to move. Comb through the fallen bodies and separate our men from the bastards who attacked us. We need to give our soldiers immediate medical aid.”

“Yes, Sir!”

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