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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A stony silence encased the atmosphere.
It swirled around in the air like a snowflake descending from its icy throne above as it fluttered through the sky. Wafting through the air before it touched the earth, its final resting place.
Kyro's eyes, swollen from abuse, focused on the livid, beautiful, and stunned queen. A look of shock and horror was etched onto her features which basked in the radiance of her beauty. Kyros thought she was the most beautiful being on the earth, with her strong, independent power oozing from her very pores and the way she presented herself - confident and strong.
Her beauty was unimaginable to him - locks of hair spun in silky strands of gold that seemed to glow. Her eyes matched the color of her hair and her crown brought her features out. It caught upon the sunlight and twinkled and shimmered like the very stars that mapped the sky.
She wore a long dress that told of her high status. Golden strands were woven into it, and it dazzled in the light. It was a stunning color, and it reminded Kyros of winter, due to the fact it was light blue with branch-like lace creeping up the sleeves and around the waistline.
And yet here he was, caked in his own filth and barely breathing. He wore nothing but his blood and other bodily fluids, his hair was much too overgrown and was longer than he would prefer it. He looked scruffy, sickly pale, too thin, beaten, and broken.
And indeed, he was all of those things.
He wanted to look as handsome as he could for his mate and he couldn't even do that.
When her face twisted into that of disgust, Kyros looked down. The ache in his chest hurt more than his physical wounds, it was a different kind of pain. One that tormented him from the inside and one that he was sure would never heal.
He inwardly scoffed at himself at such vain, meaningless thoughts.
He nearly forgot his place in the few moments he spent being awestruck by his second mate. His second mate. That alone was enough of a surprise for him and he almost couldn't believe it.
But who was he to think he deserved a mate? Who was he to think he could change the world? Who was he to think he could have a second chance? Who was he to think that he would be able to live to get to know his mate?
And of course, his mate would be disgusted with him. She should be, she had every right to. And he expected it.
But just because he expected it didn't mean it was any easier to handle.
He didn't deserve another chance. He didn't deserve love nor did he deserve another mate. Especially the queen.
"Guards, leave the throne room at once." Queen Asheria spoke, her voice low. Wrath was buried deep inside her bones and gnawed at her flesh like a parasite.
The guards looked at each other, puzzled at the queen's actions and change in demeanor.
"Your majesty," One guard said, bowing as he did so, "Are you sure it is wise to leave him alone with y-"
