CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY-SEVEN XANDER'S COMPASSION

XANDER'S POV Sitting on the edge of my bed, I stared at the half-empty bottle of whiskey in my hand. The room around me felt suffocating, the walls closing in like a vice. I took another swig, hoping the alcohol would dull the gnawing ache in my chest, but it didn’t. It just made everything feel heavier, more tangled. I closed my eyes, but all I could see was her face, twisted in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched them beat Javion. The image wouldn’t leave me. I tried to shake it off, to convince myself that it didn’t matter, that I was in control. But I couldn’t lie to myself. Not about this. “Damn it,” I muttered, slamming the bottle down on the bedside table with more force than I intended. The sharp clink of glass against wood reverberated in the silence of the room, echoing in the hollowness I felt inside. I pressed my palms to my temples, trying to block out the memory, but it was like trying to hold back a tide with my bare hands. Every time I thoug