Now, seated on the regal throne deep within Zarar's territory, Rong Xinghe chuckled softly. Her gaze locked with his just as the lion drove his canines into Adrian Novikov's neck—precise, lethal.
Like a good boy.
He was massive now. A magnificent force of nature. Muscled and majestic. Deadly, yes—but clever. Calculated. A true sovereign of the wild.
She had never caged him. Never confined him behind bars like a spectacle for curious eyes.
Instead, she had released him into the dense forest beyond Aelorion. A region carefully guarded by forest rangers, ringed by buffer zones, its boundaries government-maintained.
Because he hadn't been born to entertain. He wasn't a trickster for circuses or a melancholy exhibit in a zoo.
He was born to rule.
And now, in this moment—under the darkened ceilings, before his Queen—he stood in his element. Confident. Unapologetic. Fatal. And Proud. Because his Mumma was near. The only family he had ever known.
