Blackfoot Forest cried his wife impatiently.

The man hesitates, for this is his kingdom and he is king. It is not this strangers home. It is not his to take. But, as civilized and stubborn as the alpha is, he is no fool. Although he is not keen on them, Aaron knows the laws of the wild and unruley. Today, he is no longer the king. He no longer bares the scepter to the beautiful kingdom of Rosings. He is but a peasent now, bowing at the feet of a stranger who knows no walls. He hesitates-- but not for more than a heartbeat-- before he speaks. "It is yours," he murmurs. 

The brute moves away, but his gaze holds the fallen-king down like the weight of a boulder were atop him. Aaron avoids his gaze, staring instead through the barely budding branches and at the blue sky above. He has given his kingdom, his throne, and his pride-- and as this thought sinks in he thinks of Amara. Had he given up her as well? She and all her wonderful traits were the most sought after from his this week-- and he knows that any man could smell her from miles away. He longs to be freed from his chains, so that he could run to her and hide her from this mans grasp.