~ZEPHYRUS' POV
I stalked out of Alaric's chambers.
My vision was blurred by a crimson haze, which felt like a veil of rage had descended upon me.
My heart pounded in my chest, echoing through every fiber of my being.
"I would tear those fuckers limb by limb if I were to ever cross paths with them." A promise I made to myself as I continued my strides.
Who did they think they were, daring to challenge the Lord of the Demon Realm?
The thought was laughable, a jest that only fueled my anger further.
"I needed this anger out of my body," I spoke to no one in particular.
I materialized into the training ground, the familiar scent of sweat and blood greeting me like an old friend, a reminder of the battles I'd fought, the victories I'd won.
The ring, a circular platform of worn stone beckoned me. I took off my shirt, revealing my corded muscles, with the tattoos on my skin which seemed to pulse with a life of their own.
