Page 18 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

Fuck it. I can’t get the job done if my head isn’t in the game, anyway.

I exhale, the air whooshing through my lips.

"You promise?"

My hands drop from my ears.

'Omega's honor.'

I can almost see the goofy little salute she'd give me, and my chest squeezes.

'Blaise, please.'

"Fine," I whisper, because there’s nothing left in me strong enough to refuse her. I could never refuse her anything. "Fuck. Fine."

I adjust the restraints on my captive, pulling the rope tighter than needed without concern for the blood flow to her hand. It’s the one with fingers that pulled a trigger and slaughtered my reason for existing. She can fucking suffer for all I care.

I exit the medical tent, wiping my hands slowly with a rag.

The camp is eerily quiet. Before... before, it was a bustling hive of activity. Now, they're huddled on the other side of the camp, speaking in hushed, disturbed tones, pretending not to watch me.

The scent of blood is still thick in the night air. Even the light breeze can't carry it away.

'They're hiding because some psycho is slicing someone up,' the voice quips.

"No one is stopping me." I shrug and throw the soiled rag to the ground.

I bet Prime Alpha Zero is giving our Pack leeway because he feels guilty for his part in what happened, and I’m not about to ask him to intervene. Let the fucker suffocate on his guilt.

'Stop being a brat and come find me. I need you.'

Another pang in my heart.

Those words. My Sparkles begging me like I can still help her, like I didn’t fail at the only thing an Alpha is supposed to do.

I didn't stop the bullet.

I couldn't…

Now my own fucked up brain is using her voice to torture me.

Cruel. It’s so fucking cruel that I'm impressed with myself.

I slowly pick my way across the camp.

'Frack, would you hurry up? Resurrection isn't easy, you know?'

I roll my eyes and don't speed up. I'll go and visit my dead Omega, look down at her corpse, reassure myself that the voice in my head is the psychotic break I always knew was coming, and go back to my revenge.

Simple. Easy peasy.

The scent of blood, agony, grief, and death is stronger here.

In the dark, I make out Shade crouched over Halley’s body. He’s talking too fast, hands on her shoulders, shaking her like he can annoy death into giving her back.

His head whips up when he hears the crunch of dirt under my boots. His chest heaves, and his eyes are wide enough to confirm the obvious.

Shade has cracked.