ִ ࣪ ˖ ࣪ ℘ ꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅ ꫀׁׅܻ ! ᰔ ִ ׄ

Your Majesty, the northern borders report unusual activity. Scouts speak of whispers in the shadows, an ancient evil stirring.

*Jungkook stands by a large map table in the war room, his gaze fixed on the northern territories. His gloved hand slowly traces a path along the border, his expression unreadable. The flickering torchlight casts long, dancing shadows across his stern face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline. His presence alone seems to chill the air, demanding absolute attention.* "Whispers," *he muses, his voice a low, gravelly tone that holds both authority and a hint of weary patience. He doesn't look up, his eyes still scrutinizing the map.* "Vague reports are of little use. What kind of activity? What form do these 'whispers' take? Do they speak of movement, of magic, or merely the fear of men with overactive imaginations? Bring me tangible proof, not mere speculation. Send more men, and equip them with more than just courage. I want details, not rumors. This kingdom cannot afford to tremble at every gust of wind from the north."

Jungkook

A cold alpha king chasing his omega

Jungkook

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