In the earliest of the morning, with the sun not even having started to rise from behind the horizon and stars still lingering on the night sky, a tall figure knocks quietly on some windows, opening them for a short moment to let small shadows jump out, before closing them again and walking towards the forest.

The forest, wrapped in absolute darkness, allows them to go away unnoticed, accompanied by a massive shadowy figure, red mixing into the black of its body and the background. At the same time, it walks next to them in complete silence despite its size and possible mass.

When the small group arrives at their destination, a small lake at the end of an energy rift, they sit down on the rocks, with the taller figure walking towards the lake. It scoops up some of the glowing water and lets the enormous shadow drink it, making the veins of a black and red wyvern glow a faint blue.

"Gather around children," the figure speaks up, revealing the voice of a man, "and let me tell you the story of our kingdom, the Valkürian Sanctuary, how we came to this village on the bottom of the Valkürian Range and how the kings of the air - our beloved and treasured wyverns - became our best of friends."

With that, the wyvern spits fire on the ground, creating a soft fire, and causing small orange flames to illuminate the group's surroundings.

"It all started hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago, when our lands were even harsher than they are now, there had been our great king Ansgar who decided to escape the ruins of Skeld, fleeing towards the cold and harsh south. Nobody would follow him up to the cold air, at least what we know now. But on the way towards his goal, Ansgar came across one of the most feared wyverns to this day - Malakh."

The black wyvern makes a low growling sound, using its wings to brighten the flames while the man enjoys the way the children gasp in unison, huddling together and looking at him with big eyes.

"Malakh had just risen in his name and power, stirring up trouble and bloodshed wherever he flew. Of course, this didn't hinder Ansgar to change his mind about the new home, no. He challenged Malakh, intending to slay this wyvern and claim its territory as the Valkürians' new home, but the death of Malakh never came because Ansgar was the one who got almost killed. Why should a powerful and feared wyvern give up its territory for a mere human? Why did Ansgar think he could slay a beast that could easily swallow him with everything he wears? The answer was simple - the human mind and arrogance took over, costing Ansgar his left arm and right leg. However, Malakh took pity on the human after a child ran up to Ansgar, his son, this is what history said. The boy, not older than four years old, ran up to Ansgar and held him, ignoring the blood that flowed out of his father's body and then glaring at the wyvern. «Don't hurt my father,» he said and stood up afterwards, walking towards Malakh. «Eat me! I am young and tasty!» Malakh leaned down to the boy..."

Another round of gasps came out of the children, they huddle even closer to each other now and some even hold their breath, too anxious to make a sound but also too invested in that man's story.

"...and roars at him before soaring back into the sky, leaving the group led by Ansgar behind. This action caused the Valkürians to follow Malakh, passing rivers of almost frozen water, dead wild and sometimes the skeletons of ancient fallen wyverns before they come to a halt in front of a mountain's cliff. There laid the nest of Malakh's, hidden over the clouds and as big as the wyvern itself. «We will live here from now on, to enjoy the protection of this wyvern and the harsh climate of the mountain,» Ansgar, still wounded but strong-willed, had said and started to make his way towards the cliff. His wife and son followed him, loyal and warm-hearted as a warm glass of milk. They tried to picture how their future kingdom should be built and started to gather the materials, including hunting the animals around the mountain."

At this, a swarm of birds got startled and took off with a shrill sound, leaving behind the group and the kids jumped. "What happened with the wyvern?"

"Malakh was present during all of that, even helping Ansgar and his folk after being fed some of the hunted deer. He and Ansgar also became closer and Malakh allowed him to sit on him, flying him to the towers and helping him build them without death from the others. With that, our kingdom was built but this wasn't the end. One day, after Ansgar established his own power with Malakh by his side, another wyvern started to live in that mountain - it was Radkrøn, Malakh's fiercest enemy. They had battled for days, destroying the sides of the mountains, and even some buildings and ultimately caused Ansgar and his wife to die before Malakh fled the mountains, injuries tattering his body and destroying the beauty of dark jade-green scales. This left his son alone in this cold climate and he became resentful of wyverns, especially the Stonesnouts. Ordering the Valkürians to break the Stonesnouts' spirit to mount them, thus came the tradition of the Valkürians, now known as Stormraisers who control the thunder and lightning with only their hands, to be ruthless and cold-hearted people. They only allowed their own kind to mingle together, to love and cherish each other. To this day, this tradition stands, with our king Charles being the most feared, as Malakh returned to him."

A young child raises her arm, jumping up and down on the rock she's sitting on and a big smile on her face. "What about you and Helstör, Maxy? Do you love him?"

The other children snicker due to her question, thinking she doesn't understand the concept of humans and their mounts but "Maxy" smiles and pulls down his hood, revealing sharp eyes with a soft smile.

"That's a good question, Penelope. Helstör and I share a close bond because when he found me, it was in the form of his egg. I found his egg near my home and decided that I'll keep this egg safe. And since then, he and I grew up together, but I never thought of using the Stormraisers' methods of brutality. I mean, have you seen this monster of a wyvern behind me?" he points behind him to the wyvern who snorts and slaps the man with his wing, causing the children to laugh loudly.

"Max got slapped by Helstör!" they giggle after Helstör made a satisfied sound as if he was proud of slapping Max and making the children happy. Maybe he was, or maybe he was happy that Max was slightly hurt by the slap, who knows?

"And you got caught, again," a new voice scares the children and making them either jump onto their feet or fall down from their rocks. Everyone turns around to find a tall woman standing there, her arms crossed and an unreadable expression on her flushed by the cold air-exposed face.

"Mama, good morning!" Penelope smiles timidly, trying to hide behind Max who smiles brightly.

"It seems like our little history lesson is over. Let's go back before your parents get sick because of worry, shall we?" he gathers some children around and helps them onto the back of Helstör, making sure they all sit correctly and won't fall down easily.

Penelope walks towards the taller woman, playing with her fingers and looking down until she squeals as her mother picks her up. "Didn't I tell you to put on warmer clothes if you sneak out with Max?"

Now, everyone relaxes and starts to laugh and slowly, they make their way back to the village, the sun finally rising and overshining the last stars that cling to the last dark bits of the slowly dying night sky.

Max hums a soft tune while walking next to Helstör, his wyvern grunting softly and sometimes nudging him towards the correct path if he drifts off.

Arriving at the village gates, the children jump down from Helstör and run towards the houses, telling their parents about what they heard that morning and what Max taught them.

"Seems like they really grow up with your stories, Max. You, on the other hand, don't," the woman teases him and nudges him with her waist, Penelope laughing at that and patting Helstör's snout, enjoying the warmth of the scales.

"Someone has to keep them young and yet grown up with stories about our history. The king never sent people down here and not many have the luxury of being close to someone who works for the Royal family," Max shrugs and walks towards the house of the blacksmith, shrugging off his cloak and pushing his hair behind his ears.

The woman walks after him, Helstör and Penelope following. "Yeah, but I don't want you to get sick again, all you wear is that old cloak of yours instead of warm winter clothes. What was the temperature this morning? Some smaller energy rifts froze and it gets colder by the day, despite us nearing summer."

"Kelly," Max sighs and starts to flex his arms to get them prepared for work, ready to get the oven fired up and weapons repaired or crafted. "We can't influence the weather, it's not up to us how the king feels. Especially after the queen left, the weather gets colder. There is nothing we can do."

"We can, Max. You love this part of history so much and yet you never live after that," Kelly raises her voice slightly, ushering Helstör to come closer so he can help Max with the oven. "Ansgar's son got overthrown by his people who were tired of his tyranny and the even harsher climate, so why wouldn't history repeat itself for us?"

Helstör lights up the oven for Max and a big cloud of ashes rushed into the cold air, tainting the white clouds in an ugly grey.

"King Charles has Malakh by his side now, different from Ansgar's son. And Malakh will be loyal to the king, killing everyone who even tries to step too close to the king. It won't be possible for even the whole people of Skeld to overthrow him during his lifetime. Only the queen and Radkrøn might change that if she would've stayed that is."

"That's something I still wonder about, why did Queen Giada leave like that? In the coldest night of March, just after she gave birth to the prince?" Kelly leans onto an old wooden wall, looking into the red embers of the oven. "She had the king's heart in her hands and a son that secured her position as the queen, so why leave?"

"I don't know too, Kelly. You're working inside the walls of the kingdom, not me. All I know is from you," light coughs come from Max after the wind swept through the barely blocking wall of the forge, catching some ashes and embers to swirl towards the smith.

"Maybe it's because he's a cold-hearted man?" a head peaks from behind the wall, catching the two speaking off guard.

"What do you mean by that Charlotte?" Kelly looks towards the younger alpha, her arms still crossed to hide her slightly shivering hands. Max sees right through her attics, used to her lies since she took care of him two years ago. The weather causes her health to decline rapidly, so he just takes his cloak and drapes it over his friend's shoulders.

"He uses everyone he gets to bed, to satiate his hunger for blood. Anyone who resists, he kills or tortures. Anyone who dares to speak up against him, he'll throw off the kingdom. The bodies of the unfortunate people lie in the mountains, destroyed by weather and wild wyverns. I still see him gripping another alpha's throat and pushing him over the edge, only because-"

"Mama! Look what I found!" Penelope runs towards them, something in her hands. Her timing is odd but the three adults welcome it, especially Kelly who kneels on the snow-covered ground and chuckles when she sees the dirt and slight scratches adorning her daughter's cheeks.

"Now, what have you found my dear? Another feather?" she kisses her daughter's head who grins and shakes her head. "No, but I found these!" Kelly gently takes some snow in her hands to melt it with the heat of her body before using the now liquid snow to get rid of some dirt on her daughter's cheeks.

Penelope yelps slightly at the coldness but still presents a handful of pearlescent scales, greyish blues and light wine red coloured ones adorn her tiny hands, shining in the slight morning sun.

"Maxy, can you take a look at them, please?" she hops towards the forging man, unbothered by the heat and flames of the oven. "I can give it a look for you if you want."

Abandoning his work for a moment and covered in soot, Max turns around to the girl and takes some scales, holding them against the sun and nods approvingly after he saw the sun shimmering slightly through it.

"It's slim and has no rigged edges, so it must be from an Ironwing. But the colours are unusual to be found around us. I can't really identify it, could be a Frozen Lake or Cardinal Zenith, but I'm not entirely sure. But what I know is that scales from an Ironwing mean fortune and happy life," he gives back the scales to Penelope, grinning when the little girl screams in delight and runs towards Kelly, repeating what Max just said.

This is what their everyday life is like - the children waking up to Max telling them stories about the history of the kingdom they live in, the group then walking back to the village and doing their daily things. Sometimes, vendors from other kingdoms or nations stop by, selling their goods (which can range from exotic foods to wondrous potions for the village's alchemists) and during special days, they have festivals, filling the village with happiness.

Today is a calm and quiet day, much to the pleasure of Max. The children went to the village's school or nursery school while the parents went to work, some give their weapons or work-related items to him to fix or to be replaced and all in all, it's exactly how Max loves the village's lifestyle.

However, as the sun kissed the horizon and he was going to close the forge for today, Helstör sleeping curled up next to the still-warm oven, two men clad in royal uniforms enter the village, their wyverns, two beautiful white-scaled ones, snort softly when they notice Helstör and Max.

The men to the wyverns aren't strangers to Max and rather are two people he enjoys seeing in the village once in a while. Christian and Torger, lovingly called Toto by the kids and close friends, wave at Max, weapons pointed to the ground and their steps relaxed.

"Good evenin' you both, can I help you with new or fixed weapons?" he turns around to the oven again, intending to fire it up again when Toto lays his hand on his broad shoulder, shaking his head.

"That won't be necessary today, Max. We've got a notice from the king for you," Christian sighs and gives Max an expensive-looking paper, marble-like swirls adorning the soft beige paper and in neat handwriting, Max reads out the notice.

«Dear Mister Max Emilian Verstappen, Blacksmith of the Forest's Village,

hereby I call your presence in the royal walls, an urgent matter needs to be discussed regarding your position and your work. Please follow the royal guards sent to you, the details will be addressed and spoken about as soon as you enter the castle.

King Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc»

A deep sigh escapes the blacksmith and he throws the paper into the oven, watching it burn to ashes as Helstör finally wakes up. "Can I notify my friends before we leave, please?" he turns towards Toto and Christian, hoping to receive some sort of pity or understanding.

Christian looks like he wants to give Max this one thing so badly, but Toto shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Max, but those were the orders. You could only write a quick notice for everyone and leave it on the walls. I'm not sure when you will be able to come back."

This is his end, he knows this. The village is known to be rather independent of the royal family, having its own chief, trading routes and slight economy (the most successful trading is Max's weapons to the king, which earns the village quite a big sum of money every time this trade takes place), so it's no wonder why someone gets the blame for the village.

It's also no surprise to him that he gets taken, as he took in the role of the chief somehow. He can't remember why or how, just that since he was a young teen, he had the responsibility of the village and its inhabitants carried on his shoulders, alongside the educational and economic prospect of a dying folk to worry about.

"Do you have paper and some ink? I don't carry those around now." He gets the asked things from Christian who (with an uneasy and almost guilty expression) walks towards his wyvern Vahlmir, only to retrieve human-sized handcuffs and what looks like cuffs for a wyvern.

While Christian and Toto cuff a confused Helstör, Max writes as much as possible, trying to explain what might be happening and that he hopes to come back as soon as possible. «If I shouldn't return after a moon cycle, please try to contact the royal family or the guards and keep the children happy, I don't want them to worry too much. Love, Max» were the last words on the notice he hefts onto the wall before he also gets cuffed by Toto and put onto Helstör's back.

He keeps his head high, forcing a smile on his face when Christian looks at him before moving towards Vahlmir, Toto already sitting on his wyvern Bharu'al, waiting for the older omega to sit down before taking off with Max and Helstör.

"Let's hope we can get away early on again, Stör. I'm not sure if I can stand the king or any other royal family members without wanting to jump down the kingdom myself," he whispers to Helstör, glad that the wind muffles his words. If Toto or Christian hear him, he would surely die as soon as he sees the king and after they told him what he said about him.

Helstör gives him an agreeing snort and looks down, watching as the village gets smaller and smaller and as the clouds come closer and closer. It's not like he and Max never flew over the clouds, but they'd rather stay closer to the ground and village, should something happen there and the people need their help.

Flying doesn't take too long, it's frankly too short for Max to mull over the reason why he had to be summoned to the king's castle, or the fact that he is cuffed alongside his wyvern.

He'd be lying if he says that out of millions of reasons, he believes that he truly has been summoned because one of his prized, hand-crafted weapons failed or no longer satisfy the king's standard of weaponry.

Despite the late hour of their arrival, the plaza in front of the castle's entrance is packed with people, some looking at them with spiteful smiles and others even bringing rotten fruits and vegetables with them, probably to throw them at the newcomers.

Luckily for Max, Helstör's rather grim and spiky appearance seems to intimidate most people, the red burning to the contrast of the black and his red eyes, despite him closing his eyes upon landing, seemed to have caught most off-guard and froze them.

Whispering amongst themselves, Max was able to catch people saying some words like "alpha", "king's type" and "infertile", making him scoff. Sure, he's taller and broader than most omegas but it's due to his work as a blacksmith that body; if he hadn't started crafting weapons and testing them before trading, he would most likely be looking like his younger self - tall and lanky.

"Such loose mouths for people that pride themselves as someone higher-ranked than a mere village boy," he hears himself murmur and the plaza goes silent.

If it was because of his words or because of the entrance of the official royal guards that walk towards Helstör, purely to muzzle and restrain him, while three people of the royal family walk out of the castle, Max doesn't know or care because he glares and growls at them.

"Mister Max Emilian Verstappen, right?" the woman, Queen Pascale, greets him with a tight-lipped smile, her shoulders high in tension and eyes darting between him and Helstör who gets pulled towards somewhere else, hisses and growls coming from him. "If you please follow us, the king awaits you in the throne room."

With that, she turns around and guards walk towards him, probably to take the chance to drag him by his cuffs, but he loudly growls in warning, baring his teeth and his eyes fixating on the tallest guard.

"I will only follow if Helstör stays by my side. There's absolutely no fucking way you get me alone inside this castle," he almost barks out, causing the people surrounding them to start mumbling again.

Queen Pascale turns around, her smile even tighter and the guards are slowly closing up on him, growling in a warning and some even using weapons (the weapons he made by himself) to intimidate him, to no avail.

"Mister Verstappen, we have a very strict ruleset of how we rule everything here and how everyone, including our mounts, behaves and where everyone can go. The mounts go to the stable and we go inside the castle, now please follow us."

"I will not repeat myself. Either he stays with me or I will not follow inside. Simple as that, no?" he laughs dryly, thinking how dumb and arrogant the royal people must be to think so highly of themselves.

A sigh escapes Queen Pascale and reluctantly, she nods, motioning the guards to allow the wyvern to follow them into the castle, hidden inside the mountain of the Valkürian Sanctuary.

Christian walks next to Max, avoiding the younger's gaze as if he's ashamed of what he had done, but Max is too busy memorising the way they go, already planning an escape plan and how fast he could get through with it.

"Mister Verstappen," Queen Pascale addresses him with her back turned towards him, oblivious to the omega planning something, "I'm sure you are aware of the reason as to why you're here today, do I assume correctly?"

How much dumber can this situation get?

"All the king has written is to summon me regarding my position and my work, whatever he meant with that. The weapons I crafted are still used by the guards, so faulty weapons can't be the reason why he wants me here, and my position as a blacksmith can't be of interest, so no, I don't know why exactly I'm here."

That got the queen to stumble slightly, being caught off-guard by that man's blunt honesty. She coughs slightly to mask her surprise, poorly masking it in Max's opinion.

"Pardon my rather informal question, Mister Verstappen, but why would you act the way you do if you don't know the exact reason why you were summoned?"

Another scoff escapes Max and he wishes to be freed from the cuffs. "Isn't that obvious? I was taken here by force. No sane human or wyvern would be here without being bribed or forced. And besides, I didn't know that the weapons are in good condition, so I was led by my feelings," he lies and hisses lowly when a guard shoved Helstör forcefully into his side, causing him to almost lose his balance if Christian didn't catch him.

"Queen Pascale, Prince Arthur and Prince Lorenzo have arrived alongside the guest and his mount," another guard almost shouts out, standing as stiff as one of the statues outside of the castle and with a too-deep formal bow, he makes way for the royal trio.

"The king will be pleased to see you, I hope," Queen Pascale smiles once again tight-lipped and no-so-silently mumbled the last part before she knocks three times on the door and opens it.

If Max hated the castle from the outside, he hates the throne room even more - no real light sources are used to light up the room. Instead, there are chandeliers of wyvern skulls adorned by melting candles, and the walls and the ground are made of the mountain's stone and coloured in the same boring grey. However, the throne (Max ignores the king sitting on it) is the highlight of it - golden frames holden by the bones of a wyvern stand tall on top of a platform, the fabric used must've been velvet, as glossy and smooth as it looks like, while two wings stretch out of the back, also just bones, while the skull hangs on the right top of the throne.

"Your majesty," all the guards, that includes Toto and Christian, kneel down, heads touching the ground and back pressed as much down as possible, giving off the vibe that the man on the throne is a deity instead of a human.

The king, Max hates him even more just seeing him like that, sits bolt upright, his right leg crossed over his left one and his gaze fixated on Max, greenish eyes coldly staring right into his own ones, but he doesn't feel intimidated, he feels challenged.

A low clearing of the throat from the guard that shoved Helstör catches Max's attention and he scoffs yet again, refuses to kneel down too and rather looks at Helstör who looks as unimpressed as Max.

Silence fills the room and nobody moves until Max hears rustling from towards the throne and already prepares himself for mental torture by this spoiled and snooty king. "Didn't I order an infertile omega with the highest power of that godforsaken forest village to be brought to me?" Max hears the king's voice and tenses up. This voice isn't cold like everyone said it is, this voice is filled with the need to kill, it's smooth and filled with an accent, but the feeling of impending doom can't be shaken off.

"Your majesty," Christian speaks up, face still on the ground and his voice uncertain, "this is the village's most powerful and influential omega."

"What do you know, old hag? This is clearly an alpha, but your incompetent and lust-driven omega-mind can't differentiate these things. Just look at him," Max feels cold hands gripping his face and those hands then turn his face towards the king.

This up close, Max can finally see what green those eyes are, but he's still not intimidated, the green reminding him of the few trees slowly turning from a deep, lustrous green to an old and ugly yellow before turning red or brown and dying off. In a way, this dying part might actually be true, seeing as the king in front of him looks like shit.

"He's too tall, too broad and buff for an omega. He smells like sweat and...," the king smells him and grimaces. "Why would someone who sells like dirt be an omega?"

Now that got Max pissed, he knows he isn't the ideal omega, doesn't behave like one or smell like one, but to insult him like that? That's a new low, even for the royal family.

"I'll take that as an insulting compliment, king. Wouldn't want you pesty alphas to be up my ass all the time anyways," he rolls his eyes and expects the slap on his cheek, so he just grins darkly. Charles seems to seeth in anger and stays silent, so Max uses the opportunity and jabs him more.

"Hm, expected more of such a high-ranked alpha like you. Even kids in my village slap me harder than you just did." Out of the corner of his eyes, Max sees Christian once again tensing up, seemingly ready to jump up and rush towards the young omega, but laughter thunders through the otherwise silent room.

"You forgot your place, omega," the king growls and uses his left hand to grab Max's hair roughly, evoking a loud growl from Helstör who starts to trash in his cuffs and against the muzzle.

Max knows that, should he want to be back outside as fast as possible, he needs Helstör and himself freed from their cuffs. He doesn't care why he's here or that he could possibly die, but he needs to be back in his village as soon as possible, no matter what will happen to him afterwards. The safety of his village is more important to him than his own life.

Using his moment of resignation, Charles pushes him to the ground, his knees colliding with the ground in a loud thump and a low groan of pain shoots out of Max before his eyes dart up to the king, hatred and the intent to hurt him clearly visible.

Not bothered by the omega's gaze, Charles walks back to the throne, falls into it and waves in a now bored manner. "Bring that mount to the stable and chain it up, it will not be needed any longer. As for you," he looks at Christian, "I certainly wish an explanation as to why this- village scum was brought here."

Christian straightens up, head still bowed and hands nervously playing with one another in his lap as guards start to circle around Helstör, a snarl on his snout and a clearly overpowering resistance towards the attempts of being moved.

"Your majesty, you have wished to be served the head of the village that trades their weapons for your gold. Max has been the head of the said village for almost a decade now, working as the only blacksmith and, I apologise for those words, is as infertile as the rock of this kingdom. He doesn't look or act like the ordinary omega, but it is purely by the fault of responsibilities being packed onto his shoulders since he had been around fourteen years old-"

"How old is he now?" the king interrupts, stunning Christian for a moment. "I believe he's around your age, your majesty," he looks at Max for confirmation, receiving a soft grunt as an answer.

"Then let me ask him directly if you're not so sure yourself. Guards, up him."

Guards pack Max on his arms, stopping for a moment when they felt him flexing them instinctually before hurling him up, holding him by his cuffs and forcing his head to face the king.

"So, Max," Charles spits out his name, "how old are you?"

When he doesn't receive an answer, he growls and slams his hands on the armrests of the throne, silencing everyone who whispers softly among themselves.

Another wave of pain fills Max's body, this time originating from his back and a pained moan follows up. Glancing back, he sees Queen Pascale standing there, a whip adorned with the scales of a Stonesnout in her hands. "The king has asked you a question, omega. Answer it."

"'m 25," he sighs, mumbling out his age and receives another lash with the whip, causing him to growl in pain.

"I'm 25 years of age," he growls out, loud enough for everyone around him to hear. "When are you born?" Charles, looking amused by Max's suffering, relaxes on his throne. "I hope you won't delay this any longer."

"September 30th, that's my birthday from what I was taught," Max answers with attitude, not missing the way Christian, although he's trying his best not to show it, seems proud of his sass.

"You're older than me then, but you behave like a child that never met its parents for discipline and education. A shame that village depends on some mangy child like you, especially since you don't seem to care about them at all."

"I care more about them than you care about anyone else besides yourself," Max couldn't help but spit out, infuriating the king even more and earning three lashes for that.

"Seems like this conversation won't be going anywhere. I have no other choice but to keep you here until you cool off. Maybe you'll go out as a different person," Charles shrugs and snaps with his fingers.

The guards (who haven't moved a millimetre since Max received the first lash) start to move him towards the door while a loud growl erupts from somewhere in the room, but it's not a human that growls.

From the back of the room, a massive Stonesnout emerges, dark jade-green scales mingled together with black and golden ones, horns adorned with golden spikes and a height that brings even Helstör to be wary.

"Oh, seems like Malakh is back," Charles turned around for a short moment before pointing towards Helstör. "Malakh, bring that mount with you and make sure those incompetent guards lock it up correctly."

Neither Max nor Helstör could protest, Max getting lashed once again and Helstör receiving a warning bite at the junction of his wing and body by Malakh forced to follow orders from the royal family.

"Max, I expect you to get cleaned and redressed. Don't want to get my property all dirty, and clean up the mess of the person before you left, understood?" Charles' voice yells after him, dark amusement barely concealed and only now does it dawn on him what's happening.

"You're not serious! I won't be fucked by you!"