Felis picked up a chair in his room and threw it on the ground. It shattered, the splinters flying around. "Find her!" he roared. "Where could she have gone? Who were the fucking Nyxers who helped Rolfe Aramaer. I want that demon!" He picked up a couch and sent it flying across his guards who ducked in time to avoid it.
The General of his army, Alphard, was standing calmly with his arms clasped on his back. He watched as his king vented his frustration. The twelve alphas were standing on the out who were also extremely angered. They were waiting for Felis's command to wage a war against whoever had taken their bride. Each of the twelve alphas had more than five hundred soldiers under them. They were raging not only with anger, but they were driven by their lust to take on the princess. It was rage and lust for them. It was fury and ego and failure for Felis.
