Chapter Forty-Six #2
"I was in hospital for a while, there were a lot of burns and they took a long time to heal."
My eyes flick to his torso, where I know mottled scarring covers his flesh. I've thought about what caused them before, but nothing could prepare me for the truth. His own father tried to burn him alive rather than acknowledge his bastard child.
"How old were you?"
"Seven."
No wonder the burn scars linger. They were carved into him before his Alpha healing was strong enough.
"So, they put you in an orphanage?"
The questions taste sour, and I feel sick to my stomach, but I cannot stop. I promised I would love every part of Blaze, and this feels like peeling back another layer to see the truth beneath. The reason he is the way he is.
“Yep. A few years there, then the military took custody.”
My chest tightens.
"Did you go to the Alpha Division like Viper and Knox?"
“Nah, I got special treatment. Think daddy-dearest pulled some strings to send me somewhere I wouldn’t be noticed. Twelve-year-olds make good spies. We can get in and out easier than adults.”
"Excuse me?" I splutter. "They made you a child spy?"
Blaze stops and squeezes my shoulder. "Ah, Sparkles. Don't look so sad for me, I loved it."
"You loved spying?"
"No, I loved killing," he says it so casually that it makes a chill run through me. "I was good at it and I’d never been good at anything."
"Blaze, you have to know how messed up that is…"
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 can only 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.
I hate this world.
I hate it.
"He... changed your name. How is that even possible?"
Again, he shrugs, as if it isn’t a big deal. Like someone didn’t strip away his identity for a twisted joke.
"A simple change on my paperwork, and Blaise became Blaze."
"That's horrible!"
He takes a swig from his canteen, passing it to me with a gesturing nod. I comply, but only take a sip because my stomach still feels in turmoil. How could anyone be so cruel to a grieving, injured child?
"Don't fret 'bout it, Sparkles. It felt right. Blaise died in that fire, and Blaze rose from the ashes."
The lump in my throat remains. His scent has always reminded me of a smoldering campfire, and this new information only adds to my deep sadness.
I wonder if the smoke from his childhood home infused with his skin, overtaking whatever scent he would have developed.
Who would he have been if that fire never happened?
"Plus, it's a pretty cool call sign." He grins, his teeth bright, and his eyes twinkling.
I manage a weak, trembling smile and nod, clearing my tight throat.
"What do you think about me calling you Blaise?"
He shrugs, and I know what he's thinking. I could call him anything. Mutt, cockwomble, idiot, knothead. He wouldn't care. He never has because names don’t matter to him.
"They sound exactly the same. Blaise or Blaze, there’s no difference."
"I know, but I wonder how it would feel in your heart, if you knew I was calling you Blaise?"
I pause, waiting for him to react.
"You want to call me the name they took from me when they made me into this?" He gestures down his body with a sneer.
It's scarred by burns and mutilated by his own blade, my name etched into his flesh. But it's also sculpted by years of intense training and missions.
He says it like his body is something ruined.
I don’t see it that way. To me, every scar and every line of muscle is proof of his resilience.
Proof of how hard he has fought to stand here with me now.
He's a complex person. A twisting maze of core beliefs that I can understand why sometimes he gets lost.
"It's a weak name for a weak boy who couldn't save his own mother."
Frack, is that what he thinks?
That a little seven-year-old should've saved his mother from a fire that almost burned him alive.
I refuse to cry, so instead, I hum and press my lips together.
"Blaise is not dead."
"You're wrong. There's only Blaze left now."
"I don't believe that," I whisper. "I think Blaze kept you safe for years.
He protected you and he did a really good job.
But it was Blaise who cared for me during my training.
He brought me my morning coffee, made me laugh when I was scared, and who made sure I always had enough to eat.
Blaise made your Omega feel accepted and loved. "
He screws his eyes shut, his nostrils flare as he fights an internal mental battle I can't fathom. It looks painful.
“So you want me to be weak. To kill Blaze,” he spits.
"Not at all.”
I could never ask that of him. He is both Blaze and Blaise, two sides of the same coin.
“I like all parts of you.”
His pale, ethereal eyes flicker open, glaring down at me. He doesn’t believe me. I can practically see the word ‘liar’ flashing in his pupils.
“Blaze is a badass. A survivor. He's a fighter, and a warrior. The one who serves his Pack and would die for his Omega. Even if he’s a little scary sometimes… he also thrills me in ways that I never imagined would excite me.”
He grunts, scrutinizing my face, hunting for the smallest sign of deception.
“And Blaise,” I continue, “is my sweetheart. My cheeky, fun Alpha. The one who's kind and playful. He makes me smile and brings such joy to my life.”
He shakes his head, and his hands curl into fists on his thighs.
I reach out, brushing my fingers over the rough calluses of his hand, stroking his knuckles with my thumb.
"Aren’t you tired from fighting yourself?
” I earnestly ask. Wrestling with yourself all day, every day, must be exhausting.
“Surely, you’ve earned a break after all these years.
You deserve peace, and softness, and love.
You don't have to keep fighting on the battlefield and fighting within yourself. Dark or light, show me both and I’ll love you no matter what. I promise I’ll—"
He stiffens, eyes locking on mine with a heat that steals my words.
“Say it again,” he whispers.
I blink, running back through everything that spilled from my lips until…
Oh.
I know what he needs.
I shift forward on the grass until my cheek rests against his chest, the steady thunder of his heartbeat filling my ears.
"I love you.”
He shudders.
“All of you.”
He exhales as he crushes me to him, arms wrapping so tight it feels like he’s trying to pull me inside his skin.
That’s what he needs more than anything. Someone who will love him no matter what. No matter which side of the coin he falls. I’ll be that person. It won’t even be hard. Just as natural as breathing.
"Did you know that I fell in love with you before anyone else?” I murmur. “Even though I didn't want to love an Alpha, you made it impossible to resist.”
“Again,” he demands, voice low and edged in shadow. I know which part of him I am speaking to now.
"I love you, Blaze," I whisper it into his skin, willing his darker half to hear me. To believe me. “I will never hold my love back from you again.”
His mouth claims mine, rough and demanding, like he’s searching for the truth in the shape of my lips.
I let him.
If it will give him peace, I will give him everything.
He lowers me onto the grass, covering my body with his, settling between my thighs. A rigid length presses against my core.
My head spins as I try to catch up with his change of mood.
If I’m going to be with this Alpha, I’ll need to learn to be versatile.
I let myself fall into his touch and moan in encouragement. “Mmm.”
“You make me feel… so much. Too much. I just… fuck, Halley,” he gasps against my lips before diving between them with his tongue.
My perfume blooms, my scent sweetening to a mix of lavender and sultry arousal that makes him groan louder.
I pull away from his kiss, gasping for air.
"Wait — we’re on a mission. It's not safe out here."
He doesn’t stop. Slowly, he works his way over my cheek, jaw, and down the column of my neck. A spike of lust rocks through me as he tongues at the top of my bite collar, teasing with sharp nips of his teeth.
My mating gland throbs.
"No one around, sweetheart," he murmurs, pulling back to tap the side of his nose. I understand his meaning. If someone was close, he’d know. His senses are razor-sharp.
There is a hot pulse in my core. Something about my Alpha being both competent and confident sends my inner Omega wild.
Strong Alpha will protect.
Without hesitation, I trust him. Just like I trusted him with the knife slicing through my skin. He might cause pain, but he’ll never go too far. I’m starting to realize that between him and Knox, a mix of pain and pleasure turns me on.
"The others will be pissed," I say, but the protest sounds weak even to my own ears.
"Fuck 'em."
I giggle. "Only if you fuck me first, Alpha."