He understood all too well the peoples’ need to get close to her, though he had no choice but to stay back. He tugged the hood of his rakkia shirt farther forward, shielding his face before he nodded at his men, communicating that they also keep their distance. No reason to summon the attention of the royal soldiers, who formed a semicircle around the slightly elevated dais of the princess and guarded her with zealous eyes and ever-ready battle stances. Good. Their king had trained them well. No doubt the royal soldiers had heard rumors of the ever growing knot of human rebels who secretly gathered to vent their hatred of the silver panther larakytes and all other shape shifters. A hatred that was festering into something far more serious. His hands curled into fists even as his eyes narrowed into cat slits. He’d die defending his people. His princess. He was commander of a group of men, both human and shifter, who’d banded together to disperse the larakyte dissenters and keep peace to the Zaneean kingdom.
