Alpha King Dimitrio.
“Escort him in.” I say. My dark hair is tied back, revealing a face etched with determination and a hint of weariness from recent events. It is hard enough that I have just finished arguing with Melissa. And at the same time, worry about a hundred other things. I am wearing a regal yet practical ensemble—it is a blend of dark leathers and fine fabrics, suitable for a king who is as much a warrior as he was a ruler.
At my side stood Allen, my trusted friend who is providing a steady and insightful presence. Allen's eyes are sharp, ever vigilant and attentive to the nuances of court life and my needs. I look at the clocks on the wall, wondering why it is taking so much time for the person we are expecting to walk in. The heavy doors of the throne room creaks open, and
