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Alpha king Ozar.

I am known as Alpha King Ozar throughout the connecting territories of the adjoining homelands tied by rivers and borders. I am the last kind of the dragon wolf bloodline. A dragon bloodline wolf is a mythical creature that combines the strength and ferocity of a wolf with the majestic power and resilience associated with dragons. I control a kingdom of wolves who are at the top hierarchy of the food chain, the Kingdom of Orizon—a generation of dragon blood wolves whom are built differently than the average wolves.

However, I am the last pure bloodline of that blood. I have a sleek, agile form of a wolf, but with certain dragon-like characteristics such as a bite of heat—fire doesn’t hurt me. When I turn, I shimmer with iridescence of a dragon's scales. Sharp claws and fangs, capable of rending through armour and flesh. I am known to be the scarred Alpha, one who has fought many battles to hold the throne of Orizon from its many contesters in the past.

War is something I derive pleasure in. I like the smell of blood, the sound of blade against blade, the prowling sound of wolves as the ground rumbles. Thus, when King Magnus of the Elanor kingdom was found to play a part in treason, I took it against myself to seek his throne and add it to one of my many trophies. There was nothing I couldn’t get, there is no war that I am incapable of wining.

I stride through the camp, my imposing presence commands attention. Clad in a cloak of thick sheepskin, its rugged texture contrasts with the gleaming metal of my armour, and I exude an aura of authority and strength. My broad shoulders are adorned with furs and pelts, symbols of my status as King. A fur-trimmed helmet rests atop my head, and my weather-beaten face bears the scars of countless skirmishes, yet my steely gaze betrays no hint of vulnerability.

After my kingdom's victorious campaign, the atmosphere in our camp is one of jubilation and relief, tinged with exhaustion from the battles fought. The camp, which was once tense with anticipation and strategic planning, now buzzes with camaraderie.

Flags bearing my kingdom's emblem flutter proudly atop, marking our boundary. Tents, previously arranged in orderly rows, now stand askew, evidence of the chaotic energy that followed the victory. As I pass through, I watch my wolf gammas conduct my new slaves from the kingdom of Elanor, they are on queues and will be distributed to begin several sectors of my lands.

 These captives, defeated in battle, now kneel before me, their heads bowed in submission. Some are bruised and bloodied, their spirits broken by the weight of their defeat. Others glare defiantly, their defiance tempered by the knowledge of their new status as my property.

In a corner of the camp, healers tend to the wounded.

I have four brothers and one of them, Collins sought the King Magnus of Elanor kingdom to assist him in weaponry so that they could plan a coup against me. After my spies confirmed the information, I gave Magnus a decision to surrender and kneel his allegiance before me. That way, I would have spared him mercy and turned my eye away. However, pride didn’t allow him too.

So, I sent an army to make the foundation of his kingdom rumble. Magnus escaped my wrath, but the royal gammas informed me that he has a sister and though, I thought he would have taken her to a fleeting escape—here she is, right here before me. As Alpha King of Orizon, I have hundreds of consorts whose jobs are to please me and I take pleasure in beautiful things.

After the battle has been won, I retreated to the fields to look upon my new prisoners who have been captured from Elanor and that is the moment where my eyes fell on her.

The fallen princess of Elanor, the sister of my enemy. I had seen a portrait of her in the past, Collins told me about his desire to marry her and form a relationship between two countries. At that time, I didn’t know his plan was more than just marriage, he was conniving with Magnus to take over my throne, using the façade of marriage to hide it.

In the chill of the winter's embrace, she is of ethereal beauty, her presence is akin to the pristine purity of freshly fallen snow. Her complexion is porcelain pale, untouched by the sun's warm caress, yet radiating a delicate luminosity that captivates all who behold her.

Her hair cascades in waves of spun silver, framing a face so delicate, it seems crafted by the gentlest of hands. Eyes like sapphires glimmer against the backdrop of her fair skin, sparkling with an inner warmth that defies the icy landscape around her. Immediately, I have the desire to make her one of my consorts. When I pick her, she raises her eyes to look at me—the bearing of fear in her brown irises and I smirk.

“Take her to my carriage.” I whisper to Clipper, my beta and right-hand general who takes the initiative. I get up from the seat, satisfied with the number of slaves that have been captured and highly impressed with the fact that I am taking a woman whose beauty would pale Aphrodite’s. It has been months since I had a new mistress enter into my manor to bed and serve me.

This will send a message to Magnus wherever he is. He would hear the news of his sister being made by mistress and perhaps, it would lead him here.