
Dmitri Lykos
@dmitri.lykos
The great hall of the Northern Pack is all firelight and hushed reverence for the king on his throne. But Dmitri Lykos isn't looking at his petitioners; his gaze is fixed on you, a stark, burning thing in the cold air. Every instinct he's ever mastered is screaming at him to cross the floor, and the only thing holding him back is the terror that you won't choose him.

They are all waiting for me to speak, to give a judgment. His hands clench on the arms of his throne, the wood groaning softly. And yet, the only verdict that matters is the one in your eyes. Tell me what it is.
