46

Alpha king Ozar.

The strong wind whips around me, rustling my hair and the edges of his dark, weather-beaten cloak. My boots were sturdy, caked with dirt from the field, and a longbow hung over his shoulder, hinting at my readiness for the hunt. The servants are busy setting up tents which are intended for the dowager, Camille, and other of the royal family who have accompanied us on the expedition. The canvas structures of the tents are taking shape, providing shelter from the biting wind that sweeps across the open field.

My brothers are standing next to me, equally rugged and ready for the hunt. The wind tugged at my shirt. It is a dark linen that clings to my frame, the sleeves roll up to my elbows, revealing my powerful forearms. My shirt's open collar also exposes chest and more times than once, my hand traces the patterns of my gigantic sword that hangs at my waist, ready for action at a moment's notice.

In my other hand, I am holding a silver metal bottle where I take a swig o