Those eyes meet mine, and I already know I’ve lost this round.
“It’s Delilah, sir,” she says with a crisp nod. “Top of my class. Transferred from Bay’s recruit program. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Goddamn it.
I shake my head before she can even finish smiling. That smile doesn’t belong out here in the sun. It belongs nowhere near me.
“And not a soldier that’s going to be on my team,” I bite out, low and sharp, just for her to hear as I turn on my heel. I can feel the hurt flash across her face even without looking, like a burn on the back of my neck.
“Alpine it is, then,” Larkin mutters.
That should be the end of it, but I stop.
My boots falter on the hot concrete, heat seeping up through the soles like the ground itself is mocking me. I tell myself it’s because I owe it to Will that I’m protecting his daughter. That I’m being responsible, careful, and detached. I know better. I’ve known since the day she walked into my office and sat on the floor like she owned the goddamn place.
If she’s with me, she’s safe.
If she’s with me, she’ll learn.
If she’s with me…
I can keep her close and still pretend she’s not under my skin.
“Bloody hell,” I mutter now, dragging my thoughts back to the present as the wedding crowd shifts and buzzes. A burst oflaughter erupts near the open bar, someone clinking a spoon against a glass. The DJ says something into the mic that I don’t catch. None of it matters. Delilah became the perfect soldier after that day. Still presses boundaries. Still challenges me with every order I give. But she’s mine. She’s the leader I’ve been trying to carve out of her bones.
Because someday I’ll be gone. Either by bullet or betrayal. And when that day comes, she’ll need to know how to stand on her own. How to command. How to live with the weight of people’s lives in her hands and not let it crush her.
Even if that means I stay a mile away from her for the rest of my life.
“Place is packed,” I murmur to no one in particular, catching the sharp turn of a girl’s head in my periphery.
Raylen.
Short, plump, wrapped in green silk that gleams like armor under the string lights. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face, earrings catching the glow every time she moves. She turns a glare on me that could slice through steel. It’s impressive, really. I haven’t even said anything yet.
I grin.
It’s my son’s girl.
Well. Maybe. Who the hell knows? I can’t keep up with whatever’s going on between them. Just calling him “my son” still feels like saying someone else’s name by mistake, like I’ve stolen the word from a man who actually earned it. But he’s mine. That much I know. Blood doesn’t lie, even if history does. Even if I wasn’t there when it counted, I’m here now.
And so is she—this firecracker in heels with a temper like a pipe bomb.
She doesn’t say anything. Just glares at King instead as the man finally lumbers up beside me.
“Where’s the damn nuisance?” he grunts. “Still need to chew his ass out for thinking I’m old enough to be his father.”
I snort.
The poor kid really did mistake the German tank for his dad. And honestly? None of us were prepared for the truth either. But that’s behind us now. He’s got us. The family that waited for him. The family that fights beside him. And the girl who now glares at King like she’s seconds from sinking her teeth into his ankle.
“No, you won’t,” she mutters—low and lethal, like a trigger being pulled—then storms off before either of us can react. Her dress swishes around her knees, that green silk cutting through the crowd like a warning flare.
“You heard the lady,” I say, half-laughing as King and I fall into step behind her.
But I catch it. The way his pace changes.
It’s subtle at first—until it isn’t.
