Brought to his knees before the kingdom after ten years of hiding, Kyros believed that he would be sentenced to death for the murder of his pack. His sentence would mean the end of it all - his torment, his abuse, his turmoil.
But his destiny change...
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Anxiety crawled into his soul like maggots feasting on the flesh of the dead. They wiggled their way into every nerve, every thought, and even every breath. The sound akin to thunderous hooves attached to prodigious horses pounded in his ears.
The noise was his own heart.
He stood in the center of the room, stripped completely bare and as quiet as the first snow. Asheria scurried around him, muttering to herself as she eyed an array of clothing for Kyros to wear. It was the day of the crowning ceremony, and it was tradition for the newly bonded pair to dress one another, instead of having servants.
His eyes were the only thing that followed her as ran around the room. She threw open drawers of their dresser, digging them out as if she was a dog in search of a bone buried underground.
"Ah, yes, this will do. Yes, I quite like this. Mhm." She said as she stood, pulling out the ensemble for Kyros to wear, "It'll bring out his eyes. I hope it doesn't look odd, though, when he puts in on...we don't want him looking like a stuffed toad." She muttered to herself.
"Are you going to talk to yourself all day or are you going to dress me?" Kyros piped up, growing a bit impatient as his nerves got the best of him.
She straightened herself up and gathered the clothes in her arms as she walked over to him. "That depends," She said, eyeing him, "Are you going to be good or are you going to continue to have a log up your-"
"I'll be good." He sighed.
She playfully tapped him on the nose with a smile. "Good boy. Now, here, I think I've finally found the one for you to wear." She stood on her tip-toes and started to pull the white shirt over his head.
"Are you...are you sure I can't dress on my own?" He asked. His voice sounded muddled from the fabric she had forced over his head of curls. She tried to pull his head through the hole but she couldn't reach him.
"No. This is tradition." She hummed, "Lift your arms up a little more. Higher, higher, yes, perfect," She reached up to pull his head through the hole, "Oh, wait. Too high. Here." She ran around him and jumped on his back.
"Hey! What are you- Asheria!" He stuttered, falling forward.
He toppled onto the furry rug that was stretched across the floor with a loud oomph.
Asheria straddled his back and pulled the shirt over his head. "I did it!" She exclaimed in victory, before noticing the pouting heap below her. "Oh, are you okay?"
A muffled sigh replied back. His face was smooshed into the soft rug.
He sat up, crossing his legs. "What was that for?" He questioned, blowing a bit of fuzz from the rug off of his lip. His eyebrows were furrowed, attempting to make himself look serious, but he ended up looking like a teddy bear to Asheria.
