A few days pased by. The warm glow of the oil lamp flickered softly, lighing the wooden walls of the small living room. Astrid sat cross-legged on the woven mat, her slender fingers tracing the slightly timeworn pages of the ancient book spread before her. The book, gifted to her by her parents a few months before her first shift, was one of the few possessions she had left of them. It was a book detailing the history and mysteries surrounding the Primal Alphas.
Yet, no matter how intriguing the words were, Astrid found her focus slipping. Her mind wandered restlessly thinking about someone.
It had been days since she last saw Alaric. Astrid very well understood his responsibilities, he was a king, burdened with endless duties, but still, an unfamiliar ache filled her chest. She missed him. His presence, his voice, the way he silently gazed at her with those dark eyes, the warmth of his touch. She wondered if he felt the same as she did.
