River
The Lycan King’s office is less workspace and more a declaration of power, legacy, and refined dominance. It stretches wider than most mortal living rooms, a grand chamber designed to impress, intimidate, and welcome—depending on who crosses its threshold.
The moment I step inside, the sheer scale hits me. High vaulted ceilings rise overhead, supported by dark wooden beams carved with ancient Lycan runes. Soft golden light spills from wrought‑iron chandeliers, their glow warm enough to soften the room’s grandeur without diminishing its authority.
The floor is covered in a thick, plush rug woven in deep forest greens and midnight blues, its pattern reminiscent of moonlit waves and wolf tracks. It muffles footsteps, giving the room an almost sacred stillness. The walls are paneled i
