Chapter 8

“Your eyes are mirroring your soul general, your anxiety is visible.” Azarios swirled the wine glass, eyes completely focused on the sparkling pink liquid inside the silver glass as if he had not just noticed the deep emotions inside Seros.

White wolf fur made the surface of the silver armor sheathing that Azarios was dressed in today. Variants of this fur was only available for the rich that represented the high aristocratic circle. A symbol of grace, peace and harmony it was usually wore when a great happiness was bestowed by gods on one family, the reason why this fur adorned the Beast of Ambrose was clear- he favored his wife and was satisfied with her…both in and out of the chambers.

Although the couple did not intended to have sex just yet but it was necessary to pretend the complete opposite.

“I have failed you my lord.” the young soldier was having a battle, a war that was taking place between the heart and mind, the mayhem swirling inside him was so harsh