Third person
The entire banquet hall fell to its knees under Caelan's pheromones, including the seven alpha brothers and their cohorts. All thirty prospective husband candidates knelt in line; the only one standing was the king, who was doing everything not to bow.
Glasses shattered onto the clean, pristine marble floor as red wine spilled like poured blood. Some weaker omegas even collapsed instantly. The silence that followed his entrance contrasted sharply with the loud giggles, mockery, and insults his mate had been subjected to barely minutes ago. Nobles who had spoken down on him couldn't bear to stare up; their eyes dared not leave the floor.
So this was power… most of them thought. The same man they had all mocked, the one they had cast aside as garbage, was making them kneel so hard they couldn't bring themselves to stand, no matter how hard they tried.
