Alexander’s POV
The flap of the tent fell shut behind me, blocking out the view of Joanne’s trembling lips and her intoxicating scent that made me want to stay. I could still feel her fingers tracing lines on the back of my neck as her lips moved against mine; the way her body curved into me, fitting against me as if she was meant to be there.
The loss of her burned worse than any wound.
Standing in James’ tent, I forced my hands to steady as I buckled my sword. Every strap I tightened was another inch of distance between me and the woman I was coming to cherish. I told myself that the war would not wait for sentiment; I told myself that this was necessary.
The sounds of my best soldiers preparing themselves could be heard outside the tent. Their boots walking amongst the dirt groun
