I’ve met his high commander a few times during the tournament. He was sitting next to Thorne and was joking with him about me. As I understand from their relationship, they’re really close. He was nice enough and respected Thorne’s rule above all else.
Now he’s dead.
Thorne shut his darkened eyes in sorrow. He runs his hand through his hair, features hard and angry.
I’ve never seen him so distraught before. I didn’t know what to do or say. So I followed my instincts and slid out of his bed to wrap my arms around him. He was rigid as a rock. Unmoving.
“He was my best friend.” He whispered hoarsely, voice constricted from the obvious pain of losing a friend. “Someone killed him.”
“Was it a dispute?” I ask remembering how the others died.
Thorne shook in my arms, his anger coming off
