Tybalt took two deliberate steps toward Hana, reaching out a hand to rest it on the railing near hers—only for a dark, scaled forearm to shoot out from the shadows and block his path completely.
Caspian stepped out from the adjacent armory entrance, his massive frame towering over the tiger beastman. The Dragon King didn't say a word. He simply crossed his arms, his golden eyes burning with intense, territorial pressure that forced Tybalt's smirk to falter slightly.
"The Tiger Tribe reports go straight to Ren," Caspian growled, his voice deep and rattling like rolling thunder. "The Sovereign is resting."
Tybalt clicked his tongue, his tiger tail lashing back and forth against his boots in obvious frustration. He looked past Caspian's massive shoulder, eyeing Hana with a mixture of raw desire and growing annoyance at the iron fortress her mates had built around her.
