Throne Point Of View.

By the time I reached the throne room doors, my anger was a living thing beneath my skin, pacing and snarling, begging to be let loose. The guards standing at the entrance bowed quickly, stepping aside the moment they sensed the storm in my steps.

I shoved the doors open.

The room fell into absolute silence, and the sight that greeted me only deepened the rage already burning through my bones.

The man chained in the center of the throne room barely resembled a man at ...