EMMA
I stood there, clutching the bars for support, staring at him without blinking.
My eyes moved from his bruised, battered body to his face, then to the tongue sticking out of his mouth. No one could look like that unless they had been murdered.
Around me, people were talking, but their voices seemed to echo from the end of a long, hollow tunnel. It all felt like a very bad dream.
"He can't be dead," I mumbled.
"Should we move him now, Alpha?" one of the guards asked Xander.
Xander said something I didn't hear, then began barking orders.
I could barely focus. My mind was reeling with thoughts of Tyler and how much pf a constant figure he had always been in my life. I had grown used to having him around all these years, especially after my mother died.
He was a quiet man with very few friends, but time and time again, he had shown me kindness—with a glance, a gesture, or a word. Kindness even my father had never offered me.
And now he was dead.
