*Xander*
Adrian was sitting at a makeshift desk made of pallets and wooden crates in the corner of my tent, his back arched as he looked down at a stack of documents that had been delivered to the tent this morning. He blew out his breath, straightening to his full height as he turned around with his hands on his hips.
“What are you going to say?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, stooping to finish tying the laces of my boots. The worst of my injuries had healed, and I’d had my sutures taken out three days ago. My body was still stiff and sore, but otherwise, I was on the mend.
But I was still numb from Lena’s loss. The jagged scar running from my shoulder to my collarbone was red and bruised from the trauma of having her mark cut out of me, and then sewn shut.
She was gone, and I was still alive. I had no interest in living, and had I not been an Alpha I may have done something about that, but I had warriors to bring home, and a kingdom to rule.