A Prince's Awakening

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Justine Skye as Syla Westri

Maze's wolf awakened, jumping onto his paws as fast as one could blink.

The last thing he remembered was tumbling from a cliff, so he was on high alert. An unfamiliar scent struck his snout and he then noticed the woman sitting near him, staring back with wide eyes and a full mouth.

He crouched in position, ready to pounce if need be. Syla noticed Maze's defense, and dropped the meat she held. She rose to her knees and he growled while stepping away—unaware of his sprained paw.

He whimpered softly at the pain, but still held a confident stance.

"Wait, wait!" Syla held up her hands. "You're hurt. You have to lie back down." Confused and in pain, Maze did not budge.

He examined Syla for moments. As he did that, she stood unafraid, and moved closer to him.

Her hands gently gripped his head. "You are injured," she repeated. "I cared for your wounds and bandaged you, okay. I did not hurt you."

Maze took advantage of their proximity, sniffing the woman out. The fruity scent that hit his nostrils was pleasing, arousing even. No smell of filth nor danger. Eventually, he and his animal calmed. He allowed his legs to buckle, releasing the excruciating pressure off of his leg.

"Can you shift?" Syla asked.

Maze focused on his human form, and in seconds he was shifting. He wished he hadn't, because the pain immediately intensified.

In wolf form, pain was less and healing was quick.

He laid on the ground, groaning. Before Syla moved, she studied his broad, muscular figure. His scent alluring, smelling of spicy pine, and neatly cut wool hair.

His face was handsome. Dark brown eyes, plump round lips, and a trimmed beard lined his structured face. The strange man was very handsome.

Syla bent down to her knees, looking over him. Maze's eyes darted up to meet hers, thinking similar thoughts of her.

Gorgeous. He'd seen plenty of beautiful women, but paid them no mind. The only attractive woman he'd given his time was Yana, but even she did not attract him as much as the woman before him.

"Do you know what happened to you?" Syla asked.

"I-I...think I fell off of a cliff," Maze answered as he thought back to moments before he fell unconscious.

"Oh," Syla looked down to Maze's left foot. "If that's true then this may not be just a sprain as I thought."

She cupped his darkened ankle and squeezed. Maze groaned loudly. "Ah!" he hissed.

"Yes, you have definitely fractured it."

"I have not been out for days have I?" he asked, gripping his head where the bandage lay.

"No, it does not seem so. Maybe a couple hours."

Maze grew quiet, but Syla was still curious to know who he was. "What is your name?"

Maze was caught off guard by Syla's question; he was not sure how to answer her. Clearly, she did not know he was Oshada's prince and he did not know if revealing that would be harmful or not.

"My name is... Jonah. I'm a scouter." He quickly thought of a fake identity.

Scouters are the peacekeepers of the forests. They monitor the forest for any unlawful behavior.

"You are a scouter and you clumsily fell from a cliff?" she giggled. "You must be new, then. Although I do not come to the between much, I'd recognize a scouter." Syla sensed fabrication, but she didn't make it known. If he did lie, he did so for a reason.