Alaric's strides were long and powerful as the dark halls rushed by in a blur. I could feel his ire radiating off him, causing servants to back away or dash in the opposite direction, casting cautious glances in the Alpha King's direction.
I stared at the width of his back, the brown furs wrapped around his shoulders, the cloak flowing behind him as parts of my vision flickered, the poison indeed strong. Yet I was not worried, not like my guards who kept stepping forward, offering me aid any time I tripped or my legs weakened, struggling to keep up with my brother's pace.
Soren stepped toward me, his hand stretching out cautiously, but I cringed back, flinching like a cornered animal. His face fell, though he quickly masked it. Kharis stepped between us instinctively and looked back and forth until he sent me a silent, questioning stare: Do you need help?
I shook my head. We still needed to talk before I'd make my decision about Soren.