Adelaide's POV
Alpha Lance summoned me to his tent.
On the pine-wood table sat a weathered mug; a steaming cup of coffee was pushed toward me, the rising vapor blurring my vision.
I caught the scent of moonflower.
Taking a sip, the bitter coffee slid down my throat. Here, on the southern border, such a hot drink was a rare luxury.
"You considered killing her just now," Lance said suddenly.
His voice was deep, roughened by battle.
"Yeah, I did," I replied without flinching, meeting his gaze.
He nodded and continued, "Our scouts report that the Western Tribes have covered up the village m******e, claiming it was a fire that killed everyone. You know what that means?"
I subconsciously gripped my coffee mug tighter. The warmth from the cup seeped into my palm, but a cold dread filled
