Bearclaw Valley judgement day

The threat sent his blood to boiling and his lips curled back. This was his home, his land, and he would not be threatened within it. With a tense form he stole several steps in her direction, gaze narrowed and incisors flashed. He was the rightful heir to Bearclaw Valley, the first to be born to the former king and queen. The thought alone that, that might be taken from him infuriated the man—yet he did not attack. Something held him back, something drained him slowly of the rage that’d been so close to exploding just moments ago; he didn’t understand the change, nor was the shift in his demeanour—from aggressive to closed off—a conscious one.

“If you want to take my place, you’ll have to kill me first,” he declared. “Can you do that, Laurel? Can you kill me?” He continued towards her, legs stiff, only this time his teeth remained hidden. His usual glare was absent from his eyes—they were dull now—as he tilted his head back, revealing his throat to her. “Go ahead—take what you want from me. The world will be better once I’m gone, right?”