The Dire Sovereign's breath rumbled through the cavern like a broken furnace as he continued to stare at Lyratheia, the female he had wanted to claim.
It wasn't that he loved her or anything—far from it.
The only reason he wanted her as his mate was that she had a fascinating ability—one that could make people loyal to her even if they were unwilling.
He wanted to have a child with her, hoping that the child would inherit both his and her powers, becoming someone who could transform the forest into a thriving empire.
But just then, before he could say another word, Kael stepped between the beast and Lyratheia, his golden eyes half-lidded, almost amused.
"Hey," Kael tilted his head, his voice light, "I've been meaning to ask it for a while, but could you please close your mouth? It stinks."
The beast stiffened.
Not because of the insult, as plenty had tried that before—and, of course, paid the price for it.
