Drake paused what he was doing to wipe the bead of sweat on his face. He couldn't count how many times he had done that since he started punching the bag. He had hit the bag so many times, without boxing gloves that his hands had bled, healed themselves and bled again.
He didn't care. It was easier to concentrate on that than to concentrate on the mess his life had become. He had lost his parents and grandparents to the same person and he didn't know how to stop said person. What made everything worse was he had more or less lost his mate.
He could still feel traces of her in his head but it was faint and he wasn't even sure if it went both ways. Even though he had spent the majority of his life having his mind to himself, it still felt unnatural now that he no longer shared it with Ra
