A sharp pain flashed through her chest, eliciting a gasp from her bloodless lips. But whether it was from the dream or Ramose's tight embrace, Versailles could not tell.
Her mood was ruined by the unexpected flood of images.
If only they were mere dreams...
"Ramose, Ramose, I can't breath!"
She clutched her chest and cried desperately, her eyes tearing as the pain intensified.
"Versailles, are you okay? What's wrong?"
Ramose anxiously gathered his mate in his arms and carried her outside.
"Find a healer! Quickly find a healer!" He hollered to the guarding wolf pack as he dashed towards the Werewolf Camp.
The beasts of the various races camping on the outskirts of the Colosseum of Nar curiously turned upon hearing his shout.
"What's going on? Why is the Werewolf King shouting?"
