The Broken Alpha
He imagined what his life would have been like had he not rejected her, and the pain of that imagined reality only served to send him spiralling further.
In the days, he marched. He sent runners to gather information, and he growled orders at any who dared talk. As they neared Sea Pine, after two weeks straight of walking, hunting, and shivering through the lonely nights, Atticus could no longer stand the sound of chatter. It was joyous, hopeful. It was an irritation.
“Alpha Atticus,” greeted Ralphin. He’d long since lost his dashing smile, and his onyx eyes were shadowed with exhaustion. “May I have a word?”