{Third Person}
Amara noticed it almost imdiately, and once she did, she couldn’t unsee it.
’So even they are afraid of him now,’ she thought, her lips pressing together slightly. ’Seems like word had already spread.’
Ti passed slowly.
The music changed, the dancers rotated, the conversations around them rose and fell like distant waves, but none of it quite reached her.
What had initially held her attention began to blur at the edges as her eyelids grew heavier.
She yawned once, quickly covering her mouth with the back of her hand. Then again. And again.
Then, her gaze darted around her, trying to find Mrs. Woods’ silhouette, but there was no sight of her.
Sighing to herself, she shifted slightly in her seat, trying to fight the sleep off, but the weight of it only settled deeper.
A fourth yawn escaped her before she could stop it. That was when Alexander finally turned fully towards her. The glare he levelled at her this ti was unmistakable.
She froze mid-motion. Her mouth snapped shut imdiately, her eyes widening just a fraction as she blinked back at him.
Slowly, she straightened her posture, as though that alone could erase what just happened.
A few seconds passed, and then the urge ca again. This ti, she reacted quickly—grabbing her cup and taking a hurried sip just to suppress it.
When she set it back down, she frowned slightly, her voice quieter now. "I’m feeling sleepy."
Alexander turned to her. For a mont, she almost thought he would dismiss her and let her go to rest a bit in the carriage. But then he said—
"What sort of ssage do you think you would be passing if you slept during an event of this importance?"
Amara’s lips twitched. But she quickly followed up with an apology. "Forgive , Your Highness."
Silence followed again. But this ti, it didn’t last long.
Without looking at her, Alexander reached forward and pushed his plate of fruits across the table toward her.
The gesture was casual, almost as if it ant nothing. Then he leaned back again and looked away, as though he hadn’t done anything at all.
Amara stared at the plate, then at him. A small smile threatened to form, but she quickly suppressed it, lowering her gaze instead.
"Thank you," she said softly.
And almost imdiately, she reached forward, picking up a slice of fruit and taking a bite.
It was sweet and refreshing. And sohow, just enough to keep her awake.
---
Ti passed in a slow, stretching rhythm, marked only by the sound of music, the quiet hum of conversations, and the occasional refill of cups and plates.
Just when the calm had begun to settle too deeply, the horn sounded again, long and decisive, signalling the end of the Hunt.
Almost imdiately, the atmosphere shifted.
Conversations paused, heads turned, and attention moved toward the direction of the forest.
One by one, figures began to erge from the thick woods—no longer in their wolf forms, but back as n.
They returned carrying proof of their hunt.
Amara straightened slightly in her seat, her earlier drowsiness fading completely as she watched them co into view.
Their bodies glistened with sweat, their breaths heavier, their steps firm despite the exhaustion that clung to them. So bore scratches, others deeper wounds, but none seed slowed by it.
Her eyes widened as she took in the animals they carried. They were not small.
So dragged large beasts behind them, others carried their catch over their shoulders with a strength that made it look effortless. The sheer size and variety of the animals stunned her.
She forgot everything else for a mont. She was genuinely impressed.
Each participant stepped forward in turn to present their ga. The air filled with murmurs of approval, nods of acknowledgent, and the quiet pride that followed a successful hunt.
Then, a sudden disturbance occurred. It started small, but quickly drew attention.
Amara’s gaze followed the movent, and the mont she saw it, her breath caught.
One of the hunters was being supported—no, carried. His condition was far worse than the others. One of his arms...
Her stomach dropped. The sight was enough.
The colour drained from her face almost instantly, her fingers tightening unconsciously against her lap as her entire body stiffened.
The world around her dulled for a second, the voices fading into sothing distant and indistinct.
She had never seen anything like that before. This was so real.
Before the mont could stretch too long, attendants rushed forward. The injured man was quickly taken away, removed from sight with practiced efficiency, as though such incidents were not unfamiliar.
And just like that, everything resud as if nothing had happened.
Amara blinked, her chest rising and falling a little unevenly as she tried to steady herself.
At the centre, King Sebastian stood, his presence reclaiming the attention of everyone present.
His voice carried as he addressed the gathering, his tone filled with pride and satisfaction as he praised the participants.
He spoke of strength, tradition, and honour. And when he finished, rewards followed.
The successful hunters were acknowledged, so more than others, but all with a sense of approval that reinforced their standing.
Still, it took Amara a while to fully settle. She reached for her cup almost absentmindedly when a servant stepped forward to refill it with wine.
Before the liquid could even touch the cup, Alexander’s voice cut in. "Give her water."
The servant didn’t hesitate. The wine was withdrawn imdiately and replaced with water instead.
Amara glanced at him, a faint protest rising to her lips, but it died just as quickly. The mory of her last drunken state surfaced uninvited, and she chose wisely not to argue.
She picked up the cup and took a small sip.
Just then, movent from another table drew attention again as Zarek stood.
There was a confidence in the way he carried himself, a satisfaction that hadn’t left him since the Hunt began.
He stepped forward just enough to address the gathering, his voice clear, his presence commanding in a way that demanded attention.
Amara frowned slightly. Her gaze shifted instinctively from Zarek to Alexander, then back again.
A small crease ford between her brows. ’Shouldn’t he be the one speaking?’ she wondered.
If there were any other mber of the royal family who should address the gathering after the Alpha King, it should be the Alpha Prince, Alexander. Not Zarek.
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