{Third Person}
Alexander slowly stepped forward with heavy steps.
Each movent carried weight, his claws faintly scraping against the floor as his gaze locked onto Amara.
His breathing was uneven, deeper than normal, as though sothing inside him was fighting for control and losing.
The scent of blood was still there, though faint. But sothing else began to interfere. Her scent. Her presence. It disrupted sothing within him.
Alexander’s steps slowed. His head lowered slightly, his gaze narrowing with sothing more conflicted instead of the supposed aggression.
The tension in his body remained, coiled and dangerous, yet no imdiate attack followed.
Amara could not understand any of it. All she saw was danger.
Her back hit the headboard; there was nowhere else to retreat. Her fingers gripped the sheets as her breathing turned shallow and uneven.
This was the sa fear, the sa suffocating presence, just like that first night. The mory flashed through her mind so vividly that it made her chest tighten.
But before anything could happen, Alexander staggered. It was subtle at first, then his body tensed sharply, as though sothing inside him snapped.
A low, strained sound left him—not a growl this ti, but sothing closer to pain. His legs buckled. And in the next mont, the massive wolf collapsed.
The impact was heavy, the sound dull as his body hit the ground, his breathing turning rough and uneven.
His chest rose and fell rapidly, the strength that had filled the room just monts ago now unstable, fractured.
Amara blinked a few tis. Her scream had already died in her throat, replaced by stunned silence. But she still couldn’t think or breathe properly. She didn’t even dare to move an inch.
Ginger was still in front of her, tense and alert, but no longer hissing. Its eyes remained fixed on the fallen wolf, cautious, uncertain, as though waiting to see if he would rise again.
But Alexander did not. He lay there, his massive fra still, his breathing heavy but weakening, as though whatever had driven him here had burned through what little strength he had left.
Amara swallowed a gulp of air. Though her fear was still there, sharp and rooted in her chest, sothing else slipped in alongside it. Confusion. Because this was not what she expected.
And this was definitely not what she had prepared herself for.
She had been expecting and preparing for the worst, but she got this?
The monster she had feared had not attacked her. He hadn’t even reached her. He had co all the way here only to collapse at her feet?
Slowly, and carefully, she shifted forward on the bed, toward the edge, without taking her eyes off him, just in case things suddenly turned back around.
’So... this is... what he looks like?’ she thought to herself.
Just then, heavy footsteps approached from the corridor, fast and urgent, followed by voices—guards, restrained but tense.
Then the doorway darkened again as Jasper appeared, his presence imdiate and controlled despite the situation.
He stopped the mont he took in the scene. The broken door. Amara on the bed, pale and shaken. Ginger standing alert. And Alexander collapsed on the floor.
For the briefest second, sothing sharp passed through Jasper’s eyes. He had expected this outco the mont control was lost. Still, seeing it here in her room was not ideal.
Jasper stepped in without delay, but as he crossed the threshold, he slowed just enough to lower his gaze respectfully.
"My lady, forgive the intrusion," he said, his voice steady despite the circumstances."
Amara didn’t respond imdiately. She looked at him briefly before looking back at Alexander.
Jasper followed her gaze for a mont before continuing, this ti more directly. "And... I offer my apologies," he added, "for His Highness entering your quarters in this manner."
That seed to reach her. Amara blinked and finally looked at him, though her expression was still unsettled, her voice quieter than usual when she spoke.
"He—" she paused, glancing back at the massive wolf on the floor. "He broke the door."
Jasper inclined his head slightly. "Yes."
There was no excuse in his tone or attempt to soften it. Only acknowledgent.
Behind him, the guards lingered at a distance, clearly waiting for instruction but not daring to step further into the room.
Jasper gestured subtly, and they stayed outside. He then moved carefully towards Alexander and crouched slightly beside him, studying his condition without touching him imdiately.
The rise and fall of Alexander’s chest, the uneven rhythm of his breathing, and the tension still faintly present in his fra told Jasper everything he needed to know.
The worst of the surge had passed for now.
Jasper finally reached out, placing a firm hand against Alexander’s shoulder. "Your Highness," he called quietly.
There was no response. Only the slow, heavy breathing of soone whose body had been pushed beyond its limits.
Jasper exhaled softly and straightened. Then, he turned back to Amara and said in a calm, controlled tone, "You need not be alard any longer. He will not harm you in this state."
Amara’s fingers tightened slightly against the sheets. She wasn’t entirely convinced, and it showed.
Jasper did not press her. Instead, he continued, "We will remove him imdiately." His gaze briefly flicked to the broken door, then back to her. "And your door will be replaced at once."
There was a pause before he added, more quietly this ti, "You have endured enough disturbance this morning."
That, at least, was genuine.
Finally, he turned slightly and signalled to the guards outside. "Carefully," he instructed.
Two guards stepped in, cautious and deliberate, clearly aware of the risk even in Alexander’s current state. Together with Jasper, they moved to lift him slowly, ensuring no sudden movent would trigger a reaction.
For a mont, nothing happened. Then Alexander shifted faintly, and a low, weak sound left him, more instinct than intent.
Every movent in the room stilled instantly.
Jasper’s hand tightened slightly, his voice dropping into sothing firr. "Steady."
The guards held their breath, then continued. This ti, there was no resistance as they lifted him fully.
As they began to carry him out, Jasper paused just briefly at the doorway and looked back at Amara.
His expression had returned to its usual composure, but there was a trace of sothing else beneath it.
"Rest, my lady. There will be no further disturbance," he said, as if to further reassure her again.
Then he turned and left with the others, the weight of the mont trailing behind him as the broken door hung open, the room slowly returning to stillness.
---
The kind of calm that usually existed before sothing unpleasant surfaced hovered around the Queen’s palace.
Lysandra sat in her receiving hall, relaxed, and lifted her teacup with asured elegance. The steam curled faintly as she brought it to her lips, her expression unreadable.
A servant had just finished delivering the report. But she said nothing for a mont, only focusing on her teacup.
Finally, she slowly set it down.
"So, the curse acted up again," she murmured with a light, almost thoughtful voice.
Her maid-in-waiting stood quietly by her side and lowered her head. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Lysandra leaned back slightly in her seat, her fingers tapping lightly against the armrest as she processed the information.
"He lost control within his own residence," she continued, more to herself than anyone else. "Broke through into the human girl’s quarters... and caused a scene."
A brief pause followed, then her lips curved into sothing sharper than a smile.
"And yet, he failed to do anything aningful with it," she added coolly.
Her maid-in-waiting remained silent. But her gaze had already shifted to the distance, as if replaying the situation in her mind.
The opportunity had been there—perfect, even. A loss of control, witnesses, fear... all the right elents.
And yet, he didn’t touch Amara.
Her fingers stilled as she said flatly, "No irreversible mistake." Disappointnt settled over her expression, clear but controlled.
"What a waste." The words were soft, but the intent behind them was not.
She had expected more, even hoped for more. A single incident like that—handled poorly—could have been enough to shake Alexander’s standing. Enough to call his stability into question. Enough to begin pulling at the threads of his position as Alpha Prince.
But instead, he collapsed.
Lysandra exhaled lightly, her annoyance subtle but present. "He is still holding on better than I anticipated," she admitted.
Then, slowly, her gaze sharpened again. "But that does not an this is useless."
Her maid-in-waiting lifted her head slightly, attentive.
Lysandra straightened in her seat, her composure fully restored, her tone now deliberate. "Spread it."
The instruction was simple and clear.
Her maid-in-waiting hesitated for only a fraction of a second before bowing her head. "Your Majesty?"
Lysandra’s eyes flicked toward her. "Let it be known that the Alpha Prince lost control within his residence." She paused, then added with quiet precision, "That he broke into the political bride’s room in a state of instability."
The weight of her words settled into the room.
"Let the court officials hear it," she continued. "Let them think on it."
Her fingers tapped once against the armrest. "A prince who cannot control himself... What confidence can the people place in such a man?" she murmured, almost idly.
The implication was dangerous and clearly calculated.
Her maid-in-waiting bowed deeper this ti. "It will be done, Your Majesty."
Lysandra leaned back again, satisfied now, though only slightly.
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