Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 626

Chapter 126 : No Time for Ghosts

*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.

I’d rule it alone, leaving no heir behind, no legacy.

“But this–”

“It’s nothing, Adrian. It’s not a big deal.”

But it was a big deal, despite my attempts to shrug off the request of the Alphas of Lena’s lands and the High Elder Council that helped mediate conflicts between the territories. They were asking for someone from Egoren to serve on the elder council, someone who would be willing to split their time between Egoren and the pack lands.

Ethan had included a personal note, requesting one man in particular–his half-brother.

I doubted Soren would be willing to do that. He had a life in Egoren–a family, and grandchildren. Hell, if I really wanted to off myself now, one of those kids could take over Egoren.

The thought fluttered in and out of my mind before I could blink, and I went back to getting dressed. Adrian rocked on his heels, turning away as I pulled a clean shirt over my head.

“Where’s Abigail?” I asked, and he turned back around, a sly grin on his face.

some errands before we leave, sending some

needed to shave. But all of that could wait until our warriors were on the warship taking us back to the portal to Egoren. We’d be leaving first thing

reminded me of Lena. I hated it. I needed

cleanup in Breles and to oversee the resettlement of the displaced communities in the west. Everything south of the northern border was in shambles.

you going to sign it?” Adrian asked, jabbing

think about it. I found it unlikely we’ll ever come back here,

eyes darkened for a moment, but he nodded nonetheless. We hadn’t talked about Lena,

am gets left behind,” I said, sounding

“Where are you going?”

in a row, unable to sleep. If I did sleep, it was nothing but nightmares, and based on the

walked for a while, my hands tucked in my pockets. I caught a glimpse of Troy as he walked into a commander’s tent, his head bent as he talked rapidly to a man I didn’t recognize. He’d sent his wife back to the isles, kicking and screaming of course, and had stayed behind to help with the restoration of Breles. His eyes flicked up to mine before he disappeared

Troy. I liked the man from the moment I met him. I’d miss his sons, too,

Last I heard, he was back in Crimson Creek. I doubted he had plans to return to Breles, or anywhere else for that

away. I couldn’t. And sometimes, I was angry at him because of

tent, which was wide and shallow and full of warriors from every territory. I glanced at a few Egoren warriors who were seated at a table, mouthing “5:00 am” and tapping my wrist before I passed the tent completely. They nodded, their darkened eyes lined with fatigue. I needed to get them home, back to their families. I could grieve afterward. I had

camp. It wasn’t actually a fence, but a darkened alley where warriors traded their meal and shower rations for bottles

but thankfully

tent, stepping out of the shadows and running

my pockets as I picked up my pace. I knew Lena would haunt me for the rest of my life. I knew I would see her every time I looked up at the stars. I knew, during one of

“Xander!”

for ghosts. I licked my lower lip as I neared the fence. I could already taste the liquor, and could already feel myself going numb. One drink would be

“Xander, slow down–”

wrapped around my upper arm and I whirled around, grabbing its owner by

“Don’t f*****g touch–”

a white, sleeveless top, and I could see the red marks

out of my lungs in choked sobs as she wrapped her arms around

here. They were both