The river ahead is breathtaking, its crystal-clear waters shimmering under the sunlight as it flows lazily along the banks. The gentle sound of the current brings a sense of calm, a fleeting moment of peace amidst the chaos of our journey. Claude’s eyes light up like a child on Christmas morning, excitement bubbling to the surface as he kneels by the river’s edge. With a flick of his hand, he begins to manipulate the water, forming magnificent shapes that dance in the air. Whales, dolphins, and intricate spirals swirl above the surface, their liquid forms catching the light in a dazzling display.
I smile, enchanted by the beauty of his creations. Unable to resist, I join him, concentrating on the cool water beneath my fingers. Together, we begin to craft unique images, letting our imaginations take flight. I form an elegant swan with outstretched wings, while Claude conjures a roaring lion. Our creations twist and twine through the air, a whimsical dance of water and light.
Our guardians laugh and clap, their cheerful applause a sweet harmony to our playful magic. Even in these small moments, there is joy to be found.
But as I turn my gaze toward the looming lycan territory, the lightness in my chest gives way to something heavier. Awe and nervousness mingle inside me as I take in the sight of the enormous golden gates that rise before us. They are taller than the ancient trees that surround the forest, towering above us like silent sentinels. My breath catches as I stare at the grand structures, an imposing reminder of the ancient kingdom that lies beyond.
This is no ordinary territory. The weight of history presses down on me as I look toward the kingdom, its presence both majestic and intimidating. My heart quickens, nerves fluttering in my chest as we draw closer.
Beside me, Daisy steps forward, lifting her hands to the ground. Vines sprout from the earth at her command, weaving together to form a sturdy bridge across the river. As we walk over it, the vines transform into a magnificent fruit tree, its branches heavy with ripe, glistening fruit. I glance back at Daisy and smile in admiration at her effortless display of power.
But as we near the golden gates, an eerie silence falls over the air. There are no guards to greet us, no visible handles or mechanisms to open the massive doors. Uncertainty tugs at me, and I hesitate, unsure of how to announce our arrival. In the absence of any better idea, I step forward and knock on the cold, gleaming surface.
The sound echoes through the stillness.
Suddenly, without warning, four large, terrifying figures materialize from the shadows, surrounding us in a tight circle. My breath catches in my throat as I look up at them. These must be Lycans. I had heard stories, but nothing could have prepared me for this.
They stand on two legs, towering over us, their muscular bodies covered in thick fur. Their faces are unmistakably wolf-like, but far more fearsome than anything I’d ever encountered. Their eyes glow with a savage intensity, their snarling mouths filled with sharp teeth. They look hungry, bloodthirsty even, and their sheer size makes Claude—who is already tall—seem small by comparison. Twice his size, at least.
I swallow hard, steeling myself as one of the Lycans steps forward, his dark eyes locking onto mine. The tension crackles in the air between us, and I feel the weight of his scrutiny. He glares down at me, his expression filled with contempt. “I would like to request an audience with the king,” I say clearly, keeping my voice steady despite the growing knot of unease in my stomach.
The Lycan’s lip curls into a sneer as he looks me up and down. My floral sundress suddenly feels inadequate, out of place in this harsh, intimidating environment. “Speak your business, girl,” he growls, his deep voice vibrating through the air, sending shivers down my spine.
A flash of irritation flares within me. Who does he think he is? I meet his gaze head-on, my voice colder now, sharper. “My business is with the Lycan King. Not. You.”
His growl deepens, a low, menacing sound that reverberates through my bones. In a sudden, aggressive movement, he snaps his teeth near my ear, the sharp fangs dangerously close to my skin. “You tell me, or I eat you,” he snarls, his breath hot and foul against my neck.
I don’t flinch. My gaze hardens as I glance at my guardians. “Please leave me for one minute, then return,” I instruct calmly, my voice steady despite the dangerous tension. They exchange concerned looks but nod, teleporting away in a flash, leaving me alone with the Lycans.
Now, without the worry of accidentally hurting my companions, I allow my alpha aura to rise to the surface. Slowly, deliberately, I let it seep out, radiating from me in powerful waves. The Lycans feel it instantly—an invisible pressure that weighs down on them, forcing them to recognize my strength. I watch the conflict flicker in their eyes, the struggle between defiance and submission playing out on their faces.
“I. Want. An. Audience. With. The. King.” Each word is a command, underlined by the force of my alpha power. The ring on my finger begins to glow, a deep black light emanating from it, feeding into the energy I’m releasing.
The Lycans drop to their knees, their massive forms huffing in pain as my aura crashes over them. Their heads bow low, unable to resist the sheer force of my presence. The ground trembles beneath us as they surrender, submitting to the power they can no longer deny.
For a moment, the world holds its breath.