Tyron sighed heavily, leaning against the wall outside Amara's room. He was never one for such mundane tasks. Guard duty, especially in the middle of the night, bored him to no end.
His pack brothers were out in the city, taking part in crucial missions, while he was left behind to watch over a sleeping woman. Tyron knew that Amara was important, but he couldn't shake the feeling that his talents were being wasted.
He yawned, stretching his arms above his head.
The corridors of the palace were eerily silent, with only the occasional flicker of a torch casting shadows along the walls.
Tyron's thoughts drifted to the others—his brothers-in-arms, who were probably facing off against enemies or engaging in thrilling pursuits. He longed to be with them, feeling the rush of adrenaline instead of standing guard over a peaceful room.
