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Princess Yeri.

I shudder on the long line of my people whom have been captured by Alpha King Ozar, the one rumoured to be the breathing dragon, a wolf whose bite is deadly and akin to a scorching heat that can only be found in a dragon’s breath. I bow my head, looking from one place to another, gazing at the gammas of the kingdom of Orizon who are turning my people into slaves after the war has been won. I gasp, tears trailing from my face and my hands clutching the cloak against my head.

Just yesterday, I was the spoilt princess of Elanor who didn’t even have to pick up a spoon to feed herself. And now, I don’t know what is going on. I don’t know where my brother is. I don’t know if he is dead…I don’t know where my maid servants are. I gasp, seeing other young girls on the line who are being scrutinized by a group of gamma warriors…I don’t know where they are taking us or what they are going to do with us.

The gamma warriors of Orizon have bodies that are augmented by radiation—they look ruthless and merciless; they are wearing my family’s emblems on their bodies, mocking it…the things they stole from our castle and many more. With eyes glowing of radioactive energy coursing through their veins, they instil fear in all of us. Their sheepskin garments are not merely for concealment; they are also symbols of their predatory nature. Adorned with sharp spikes and horns, these skins serve as both armour and intimidation.

Tales about them are whispered in hushed tones on the moving queue.

Standing tall and broad-shouldered, their imposing figures tower over like giants. Their muscles ripple with power and each step they take reverberates with a primal energy, shaking the very earth beneath their feet. Their faces are twisted into fearsome masks of fury and dominance, an intensity that sends shivers down the spines of even the bravest souls. Sharp fangs protrude from their snarling mouths, ready to rend flesh and crush bone with savage efficiency. They are armed with axes and swords, willing to use it at any point in time.

 There are two different lines, male and female. On the female line, they are assessing the girls one by one…and very soon, they are going to reach me.

What are they going to do to us? I think, I rub my hands together as they are white as snow from the cold and my lips are pale. Orizon is a very cold kingdom unlike Elanor. Thus, we are wearing simple clothes on our bodies as its freezing. All the warriors of Orizon are dressed in thick animal skin, and fur, they are built differently unlike the wolves of other kingdoms, they are like giants—everything about them is magnanimous. As the line continues to move, I hide my face inside the cloak with my freezing hands, afraid that it would be my turn very soon as the line reduces and there are only three people before me. All of a sudden, I see the gammas parting the way as if there is someone coming through. There is an obvious change in the way they carry themselves, a sudden silence and momentum of respect.

I peep from the line and that is when I see a man, draped in rugged animal skins striding towards us. With each step, his boots crunch against the earth, leaving a trail of footprints in his wake. His wicked face shows a deep scar, the marks of countless battles and hardships, yet his gaze remains steely and determined. My wolf quivers, afraid to behold him because I know he can only be one person. His attire is adorned with fur and leather, shields him from the biting cold winds that sweep across the barren landscape and everyone on the line panics.

"He is the Alpha King, Ozar!” A girl behind me says, crying.

“What are they going to do us!?” Another girl cries out and I look around, wondering how I can escape from this place. I won’t make it. It is cornered by their gammas, and betas. Would they claw me if I tried to escape? I think, shutting my eyes as the line reduces once again and the girl in front of me begs for mercy. Despite the cold, a break of sweat stains my forehead because I’m next.

I take a sharp breath, hiding my face in the cloak when a gamma drags me to the front in a rough manner and pushes me to the ground where I kneel on the cold ground. My eyes are on the floor, choosing to not look up.

“Lift your head, you slut!” The gamma who pushed me to the ground says. Quivering, I slowly lift my head up, squeezing my hands shut. The gamma grabs a hold of my face and forcefully raises it.

When I look up, I can see the King, he is seated on a chair, adorned with intricate carvings and draped in luxurious fur. For someone who just took over my kingdom, his posture is relaxed, his gaze is steady with the assurance of one born to rule. As my lips quiver, he looks at me, locking his gaze on me—eyes piercing and blue like the icy depths of northern seas, holding a fierce intensity, reflecting a spirit untamed.

 Framed by a mane of wild, unkempt hair, the lines etched upon his face. There's an air of stoicism and determination in his expression, reminiscent of the legendary warriors of old, embodying the spirit of stories of legendary werewolves.

“Look what we have here.” He says, his voice resonates with a deep, commanding timbre capable of booming across vast halls or cutting through the din of battle. He opens a scroll in his hands, takes a look at it and looks at me once again.

“It’s the Princess Yeri…clean her and take her to my chambers.” He says.