Once the lid was opened, Prince Alaric straightened his back again.
He stood motionless, his shoulders slouched and his head tilted down, looking at the contents of the box.
Inside the box were the heads of multiple Werewolves, one of them he recognized instantly, the Beta he sent earlier to rally the remaining neutral Alpha Primes. Clearly, he was ambushed and killed, his head was now a message from the opposing side.
The killer didn't even have the decency to drain the blood out before putting the head into this box.
A disrespectful and savage act of war.
For a fleeting moment, sadness could be seen reflected in Prince Alaric's eyes but it quickly faded and was replaced by a resoluteness as he clenched his jaw hard. A bitter taste crept up his throat as his insides churned, the weight of his dread pressing down like a stone.
Prince Alaric's face twitched as the sensation built, threatening to drive him to the edge of nausea.