20

King Ozar of Orizon.

There is profound silence between us after she instinctively evades my hand. I lost control for a moment, forgetting she is lithe as a feather—she isn’t one of my warriors who would still be standing after I tug at them. I look down at her, my hands are paused mid-air as her long, dark hair fans out around her, letting loose strands scatter across her face. The soft lighting in the room highlights the tears that have begun to well in her eyes and my face is softening at what I have caused.

Well, until I hear…

“Monster.” She says, in a soft whisper but I am a wolf of dragon bloodline. Therefore, I can pick up breaths, I can pick up heartbeats and, in this case, I picked her words with my sharp senses. The insult strikes at the core of my being, igniting a fire within that is both ancestral and intensely personal. At an instance, my eyes blazes with supernatural fury—my irises are deep red, glowing embers of fire as it reminds me of my past as a wolf born of a drago