Page 245 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

His grin spreads.

"Efficiency."

"The truck would have been faster."

"Nope. It takes me thirty-two minutes to run. Takes that long to just sign out a truck," he says, deeply proud.

I stare at him.

He leans in, a speck of blood on his jaw, mischief in his eyes, and his hands still warm on my hips.

"Now we have more time for romance."

I glance past him at the dark trees of the forest looming forebodingly over us.

Trees crowd the base of the mountain, their trunks dark with damp and melting snow. Evidence of the battle remains everywhere. Bullet holes pock the bark, explosions have torn up the ground, and shell casings lie beneath the leaf litter. Even so, the forest is already covering the damage. The ground rises and falls across shelves of rock, mud, tangled roots, and half-frozen moss, while a narrow game trail winds between the trees before disappearing into the shadows.

Blaise steps behind me, tucks his chin near my shoulder, and points.

"Look lower."

I squint.

A thin line of wire catches the pale afternoon light between two roots.

"Blaise," I ask carefully, "why does your romance have trip hazards?"

His whole face lights up.

"Because I'm giving you a tour of my workplace."

I suck in a breath, my heart picking up pace. For Blaise, that could mean anything, and none of it involves safety.

"Your… workplace?"

"Yup, this is where I do my best work. Sure, my recon missions are interesting, but this is where I can really be creative."

"And your creativity is expressed through building traps?"

"Yeah, it's been so long since I could really have fun."

I don’t point out that most people wouldn’t consider building lethal traps fun, because Blaze has never been most people. I’m just glad he has somewhere to direct his "creativity" before he starts using it on the residents of Blackgate.

He kisses my cheek like that settles the matter, then takes my hand and guides me three steps to the left. I do not feel secure in moving an inch on my own, and I match his steps perfectly.

Once I know to look, the forest stops being only forest. A strip of bark sits too neatly against a fallen trunk. A patch of leaves doesn’t match the rest of the ground. One low branch is bent at an angle that looks natural until I notice the grenade tied to it.

Blaise watches my face with the breathless anticipation of a man waiting for me to admire his art.

"Welcome to the romantic part of our date."

He spreads his arms like he’s presenting a plush nest, instead of a scene straight from the nightmares of every Human soldier.

I stare at the trees. "The romantic part is a murder forest?"

"Our murder forest," he says with absolute sincerity.

His Alpha is practically glowing with satisfaction, his scent rich with wildfire and pleased possessiveness. He wants me to understand that this is him proving he is an Alpha capable of protecting his Omega.