Chapter 5
The pain woke me in the middle of the night.
A sharp burn radiated from my leg where the wound hadn’t fully closed, and I could feel the fever rising under my skin.
Something was wrong.
There was no way I’d go ask Colton for medicine.
But I’d grown up around my family’s apothecary-watched enough old remedies being mixed to remember a thing or two.
I forced myself up, dizzy and sweating, intent on finding something in the brush behind the tents.
But as soon as I pulled back the flap, I froze-nearly walking straight into a tall figure standing outside.
It’s Damon Clark.
He looked just as surprised to see me.
His eyes swept over my thin shirt, and without a word, he pulled off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders.
Then, just as silently, he pressed a small bottle of antiseptic into my palm and turned to leave.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
That’s when I noticed the fresh, angry scar running down his shoulder blade.
His unit had just returned from a mission clearing out the last enemy stragglers.
He must’ve heard about what happened to me earlier and brought the medicine….
But couldn’t bring himself to walk in.
“Come inside,” I said softly. “Let me take care of that wound.”
He hesitated, keeping his eyes averted.
“You’re not my wife yet,” he muttered. “It’s not proper.”
My chest tightened.
I’d spent two years here, labeled a military prostitute, passed over and dismissed by most.
Even Colton, the man who once swore to marry me, had asked me to dance in sheer fabric for a room full of strangers.
And yet… here was someone who still thought my dignity was worth protecting.
It felt oddly foreign.
Precious.
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Before I could say anything, I heard voices coming from behind the nearby tent wall-low, cruel whispers.
“You hear? Prescott’s leaving her behind. Sending her straight to The Holding Facility.”
“Sending a woman like that to The Holding Facility? What a damn waste. If she won’t come home with me, that doesn’t mean we just let her slip away.”
“She’ll be fair game once he’s gone.”
“Let me have her first. You boys can take your turns after.”
My blood ran cold.
1 recognized the voice.
The same bastard who tried to force himself on me before.
Colton never did a damn thing about it. And now, the scum was circling again.
My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms.
“Don’t be afraid,” Damon said quietly, his gaze flicking toward the sound.
His voice was low and calm-but beneath it lay steel.
He didn’t talk much.
But somehow, every word settled my panic, like a shield pressed to my back.
The next morning, military convoys revved up, boots pounded against gravel, and orders barked through radios as Colton
and the other officers prepared to depart for Raventon.
I finished packing what little I had, fingers tightening around the hilt of the small knife hidden under my pillow.
I didn’t know when those bastards might come for me.
Then, a shadow moved at the entrance.
I flinched-only to see Damon standing there, a rucksack slung over his back, fresh blood on his cheek.
He wiped it away like it was nothing.
“Let’s go,” he said.
He held up the signed marriage affidavit-Colton’s stamp clear at the bottom.
No one stopped us.
We made it as far as the edge of camp when chaos erupted behind us.
“Body by the creek!” someone shouted.
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“Execution wound-short blade, northern signature style!”
“Sound the alarm!”
I paused, heart pounding.
I already knew.
Damon reached for my sleeve. “Don’t look. It’s dirty.”
My voice was tight. “It was them, wasn’t it?”
He didn’t answer.
I pulled my arm from his grip.
He looked momentarily lost, like he didn’t want me to fear him.
“I only did what had to be done,” he said softly.
I stepped closer, wiped the last trace of blood from his jaw with a cloth, and gave him a tired smile.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Let’s go. Let’s go home.”
Damon stared at me for a long moment, then nodded.
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