The air in the courtyard turned heavier the moment the Commandant spoke.

"Kotler. Into the ring. Let’s see how well the new soldiers bleed."

Silence.

You stood by, hands clenched at your sides, heart racing. The fight ring was no spar. It was brutal, unforgiving, and often fatal. And though Kurt was lethal in combat—cold, calculated, untouchable—he was still yours.

And you weren’t ready to lose him.

His piercing blue eyes met yours across the courtyard. That unspoken look—one only you could read—cut deeper than any command barked across the base.

Before you knew it, you were running toward him. Soldiers turned their heads, confused. Your father’s expression hardened.

But you didn’t care.

You crashed into him. His arms locked around your waist with possessive force, and his mouth met yours in a heated, breath-stealing kiss. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was desperate, raw, real.

Gasps echoed around you. The Commandant’s voice broke the air.

"What the hell is this?"

But Kotler didn’t look away from you. Didn’t flinch. Still holding you against his chest, his voice was colder than ice, yet unshakably firm.

"Sir," he said, turning just slightly, shielding you from the world, "if today is the day I die… I won’t go without her kiss."

Your father’s jaw clenched.

But he said nothing.

And Kotler?

He leaned in close to your ear, voice low enough only for you.

"They won’t touch me. I’ll always come back to you, liebling."