FORSYTHIA’S POV
Mak abruptly raised his head, his eyes lighting up. I quickly put my legs down and focused on listening to our surroundings. A strange scent drifted into my nose; there were no footsteps, but this scent did not belong to anyone living in the palace.
Mak growled and stood straight up. He looked at me and said in a strained voice, “Stay right here.”
I swallowed hard and nodded, my hand subconsciously placing itself over my stomach.
Quick as lightning, Mak turned around and dashed straight into a thicket fifty meters away from us. He dragged a guy out of the bushes by his collar.
It was a pale teenager, filled with fear. He did not even dare to move. Mak threw him down onto the open ground. He asked coldly, “Who are you? The reason for being in my territory?”
The boy rol
