King’s head twitched toward it, a low rumble rising in his chest, but Margaret’s voice cut through, sharp yet soothing. “Eyes on me, boy. Stay with me.” Ben knelt, hands trembling as he scooped the frail body into his arms. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to freeze.
Then King’s head snapped toward him, teeth bared—but Margaret stepped forward, her voice firm as steel. “No. With me.” Somehow, impossibly, the lion’s focus stayed on her. His amber eyes burned, his chest heaved, but he did not move.