Page 166 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

I stare up at this enormous Alpha built like a weapon, dressed for war, and my chest squeezes painfully at how soft his name is.

Eden.

It's sweet, gentle, and I can almost see the Alpha he might have been if the army had never forced him to bloody his hands. Maybe a florist or a baker. Someone who creates things with his hands instead of destroying them.

My expression must say all of that and more, because his ears turn slightly pink.

I smile and reach up to touch his face. "Hi, Eden."

Then I kiss him, light and grateful on his lips, and his whole body shudders under it.

Knox clears his throat.

I turn toward him and find him looking anywhere but directly at me. The bond gives him away. He's anxious, and this kind of self-conscious nervousness is uncharacteristic of Knox.

"Well," he says, rubbing at the scar over his nose, "it has been a very long time since I answered to it."

My heart aches, and even though the noise from the war is getting louder with each passing minute, I encourage him with a soft voice. "What was your name, Knox?"

He is quiet for a beat, then nods once, like he is agreeing with an argument he's had with himself.

"Thorin," he says.

Warmth spreads through me all at once.

It suits him. It's strong and solid, just like my Prime Alpha.

"Instructor Sturgiss told me names were for those with families," he adds in a rush, like he feels compelled to explain. "He said the battlefield only required a callsign and a rank. That I was just a weapon with an expiration date."

He looks down at his hands, the knuckles scarred, even Alpha healing unable to hide the evidence of years of violence.

"I was a war orphan, so my name wasn't even my own, it was the name of the soldier who found me. Alpha Thorin Knox. He… I looked him up once, but he died on the front lines years ago. He wasn't anyone important."

I step into his space so our chests are touching, forcing him to look directly at me so he can see how much I appreciate him sharing and how much love I have for him.

"You are important to me," I tell him, my fingers covering the scars on his hands. "You’re my Alpha. Thorin or Knox, it doesn't matter to me. I know who you are, and you are loved."

I smile at him until some of the tension eases from his shoulders.

"Well," I say, looking at all of them in turn, "it is very nice to meet you properly at last."

My gaze lingers on each of them as I say their names, careful and deliberate. "Sebastian. Eden. Thorin. Blaise."

The bond settles around us, full of grief and love and that strange, aching intimacy that comes from being trusted with something breakable yet entirely intangible. I truly believe that names hold power, and I certainly feel powerful after being gifted with theirs.

The enemy rounds the bend, each new troop firing as its line of sight becomes unhindered.

Our time together has officially run out. It's time to go to war.

Knox gathers himself to his full height, gives me one last lingering look, and turns to stalk in front of the gathered Alpha soldiers.

Dust clings to Knox’s boots and the hem of his combat trousers. His rifle hangs strapped across his back, but he looks more dangerous with empty hands as he walks in front of the weary soldiers, his jaw locked and his red eyes moving from face to face.

"Alphas of Fathim, listen up," Knox barks, his voice carrying clean over the wind and the growing roar of gunfire.

Those not actively laying down suppressive fire at the barricade turn their attention to Knox.

"I speak to you as one of you," Knox shouts, projecting his voice as far back as he can, so the troops right in the rear can hear him. "I was made in this army and I’ve spent my life fighting Humans in the mud and cold with you. I know what you’ve sacrificed to keep our people alive."