I hold on tighter to his hand. It makes sense now why sometimes he seems childish. A piece of him is still seven, before he was betrayed and lost everything. Another part, frozen at twelve, before the world made him into a weapon.
He shrugs. "It's a talent. We all have a purpose, and that's mine."
My heart aches for my Alpha. He must have witnessed and committed heinous atrocities long before he was old enough to understand them. How many of those memories has he buried in the deepest corners of his mind? Compartmentalizing canonly hold for so long before something fractures and the darkest begins to seep out.
"That's what they taught you to think, Blaze. Just like they taught me to believe I'm a worthless burden on the world if I'm not bred, pregnant, or raising pups. You are more than a weapon to be deployed. More than a soldier. More than a killer."
He ducks his head, glancing at me from the corners of his eyes, almost shy.
"It never occurred to me that there was more to life than what the next mission was. Then one day, you stumbled out of the back of our truck and flipped my whole world on its head."
I give his hand a tight squeeze. He squeezes back.
“Yeah, my life was turned upside down that day too.”
And every day since.
Now that I know his past, guilt presses down until I can barely breathe.
Rut-damn, I was careless with these soldiers. I thought they were as unbreakable off the field as they were on it. I never stopped to consider that my actions might strike old, buried wounds.
Blaze’s father rejected him, then betrayed him without mercy. The military, instead of fixing the broken fragments, weaponized them.
Then I arrived, and my Omega broke through the haze of an assassin. I showed him kindness, acceptance, a sense of belonging, and a hope for the future. He was desperate for it, craved any kind of affection.
And I...
"I broke your trust. Took away your free will with my Omega Command and left you. Frack, I just... I'm so sorry, Blaze."
He says nothing, only keeps my hand in his as we walk through the quiet forest.
Eventually, my stomach growls, and Blaze guides us off the path. We sit in the grass, tearing strips of dried meat and sipping from our canteens. This stop is for me. My super-soldier could run for days on fumes.
A thought slips in.
Do I even know his real name?
"Is... Blaze the name your mother gave you?" I ask cautiously.
Blaze throws his head back and chuckles. "Kinda."
"Eh?"
“When I got to the orphanage, the Beta in charge read my name off my file and doubled over laughing. Like it was the best joke he’d ever heard.”
I frown.
“The way my mother died, my burn scars, and how my name sounded… he thought it was hilarious.”
"What was your name?"
"Blaise,” he spells it out. “B. L. A. I. S. E."
My stomach drops, and the water in my belly threatens to rise.
Blaise. Blaze. They sound exactly the same, but one is far more cruel.
I picture a burned seven-year-old, his mother’s screams still fresh in his ears, being mocked by the person meant to care for him.
