Alpha Malik and Jericho stealthily reached their chosen hunting spot, a pristine wilderness teeming with possibilities. The hunting bush sprawled before them, a tapestry of lush greenery, dappled sunlight, and hidden secrets.
The air danced with the earthy scent of the forest, inviting them to immerse themselves in its embrace.
As they ventured deeper into the hunting bush, their eyes keenly scanning the surroundings, a symphony of chirping birds and rustling leaves serenaded their senses. The king’s heart quickened with anticipation, and his hunter’s instincts ignited.
Jericho’s sharp eyes caught a flicker of movement in the distance. With a silent gesture, he drew the king’s attention to their quarry. Majestic and elusive, a herd of deer grazed peacefully in a sunlit glade, their antlers like crowns adorning their regal heads.
“The stag with the impressive antlers,” Jericho whispered, his voice laced with excitement.
“That shall be our target. A worthy challenge, don’t you think, Your Majesty?”
The king’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of determination and reverence for the natural world. “Indeed, Jericho. Let us approach carefully and aim for the truth.”
They crept closer, their steps muffled by the soft forest floor. The king readied his bow, his fingers caressing the taut string with practiced ease. Jericho, a silent shadow at his side, surveyed the scene, his gaze flickering between the herd and the hidden danger he had orchestrated.
Just as the king’s arrow was about to be unleashed, fate intervened in the form of an unexpected interruption. A vibrant peacock, its iridescent feathers a riot of colors, strutted into the glade, mesmerizing both king and hunter.
Their focus momentarily diverted, the arrow missed its mark, harmlessly grazing the air stage of the stag. Disappointment tinged their expressions, but Alpha Malik patted Jericho’s shoulder.
“We’re going to capture a mighty lion before we depart from this place today,” he declared, a mysterious glint shining in his eyes.
“Your Majesty,” Jericho responded, his gaze inadvertently meeting the king’s before he swiftly averted his eyes.
As they ventured deeper into the bush, the crackling underbrush seemed to whisper a thrilling melody. Jericho’s eyes darted around, his senses honed to detect any unusual movement. He was on the lookout for the man he had employed, his hired hand in this dangerous game of fate to kill the king and overthrow his throne.
Suddenly, Jericho’s heart skipped a beat. He caught a glimpse of a figure lurking in the shadows. Could it be the one he had been seeking? Excitement coursed through his veins as he devised a plan in his mind.
“Your Majesty,” Jericho spoke softly, his voice barely a whisper. “There’s a path just up ahead. I believe it leads to an excellent hunting ground. Shall we go that way?”
He inquired, aware that the precise moment had arrived-the opportune place where an arrow could strike the king unnoticed. Alpha Malik’s keen eyesight made it crucial to maintain the element of surprise, ensuring he remained oblivious to the impending danger. This was the only way to silence him without provoking a fight in return.
Curiosity gleamed in the king’s eyes, oblivious to the danger lurking nearby. “Lead the way, brother ” he replied with a regal nod.
Jericho’s heart raced as they followed the path, his gaze fixated on the hidden figure. The wind whispered a warning, carrying a sense of impending doom.
Just as Jericho signaled the king to step forward, a swift arrow whizzed through the air. Time seemed to slow as Aurora emerged from the undergrowth, positioning herself between the king and the projectile. The arrow found its mark, striking her instead of the king.
Shock and horror painted Jericho’s face, but he quickly composed himself, feigning ignorance of the plot he had set in motion. His mind raced, torn between rushing to Aurora’s side and finding the assailant responsible for this tragedy.
He clenched his fist in frustration, seething with anger at the unexpected interference caused by the girl. He couldn’t fathom why she had appeared in his meticulously crafted plans, disrupting his intentions.
Confusion clouded Evans’ eyes as he witnessed the unfolding scene. Blood stained the ground, seeping from Aurora’s wound. The king, stricken with worry and disbelief, scooped her up in his arms, bewildered by her selfless act of sacrifice.
Jericho’s instinct urged him to pursue the assassin, to maintain the facade of innocence in the king’s presence. However, before he could take a step, the commanding voice of Malik reverberated through the air.
“Halt! Do not pursue him,” Malik spoke firmly, causing Jericho and Evans to exchange puzzled glances. They couldn’t comprehend why the king would prevent them from apprehending someone who had nearly taken his life. Yet, they understood the weight of the king’s command and knew better than to defy it, especially since Evans himself was prepared to give chase.
“I will not let you die,” the king whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and affection. He gently placed Aurora on the horse, mounting behind her, and swiftly rode back to the palace, his heart heavy with concern.
Jericho’s frustration simmered beneath the surface as the king ordered him to follow him and not go after the man. He watched their retreating figures, his eyes burning with anger as he climbed the horse and followed after the king.
However, as the assassin realized his attempt to eliminate the king had failed, he swiftly retreated, desperately seeking an escape route through the bush, relying on the cover of the surrounding foliage to conceal his movements.
But fate had other plans in store for him. Unbeknownst to the would-be assassin, lurking in the shadows were two fierce guards and jaguar, the king’s right hand man, poised to protect their territory. With lightning speed and precision, the guards pounced, trapping the intruder in their vengeful grasp.
A victorious smirk adorned the lips of Jaguar, honoring the king for being the mastermind behind this trap. “You see,” he sneered, locking eyes with the trembling assassin, “my king has a special task reserved just for you.”
In the face of imminent capture and the foreboding presence of the guard, the assassin’s confidence shattered, replaced by a deep sense of dread. The words lingered in the air, leaving no room for escape or defiance.
They forcefully dragged him out of the bush, his body resisting their firm grip.