The King’s Unclaimed Mate(BL)

The broken golden waist chain sat heavy in his palm, its shattered links glinting under the moonlight.

A stolen prize.

A silent claim.

The King smirked as he slipped it into the folds of his robe. His river beauty would come searching for it, unknowingly walking straight into the hands of the man who had already marked him.

But before he left…

His gaze dropped once more to the slumbering figure beneath him.

So unguarded. So unaware.

Lips slightly parted, a slow, steady breath escaping them—soft, untouched. Tempting.

He should leave. He had already taken too much, lingered too long. But how could he walk away without tasting what was meant to be his?

He crouched down, his breath warm against porcelain skin.

His fingers reached out, tracing the sharp curve of a delicate jaw. His touch was featherlight, barely there, yet the warmth beneath his fingertips burned.

And those lips—

His tongue flicked out, wetting his own. Restraint wavered.

Just one taste.

Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in. His lips brushed against his beauty's—soft as a whisper, fleeting as a stolen breath.

It wasn't enough.

A low growl rumbled in his throat as his teeth closed around the lower lip, biting down, tugging—just enough to leave the faintest sting before releasing. A tease. A promise.

He lingered, his voice a low murmur against the night.

"Even in sleep, you tempt me beyond reason."

His fingers trailed lower, skimming the delicate column of a throat he longed to mark, feeling the slow, steady pulse beneath his touch.

"Who are you, my river beauty?" he murmured, his lips hovering over the ones he had just stolen from.

"A prince? A noble? Or simply a creature sent by the gods to drive me mad?"

His thumb brushed over those lips, now faintly swollen from his kiss.

"You should be grateful I am merciful tonight."

A smirk ghosted over his mouth as he pulled away.

He had taken enough… for now.

But when his beauty woke in the morning, searching for his missing chain, lips tingling from a kiss he did not remember inviting—

The game would truly begin.

The King cast one last lingering glance at the sleeping figure, hunger burning beneath his skin.

Then—he melted into the night.

Waiting. Watching.

Knowing…

His river beauty would come to him soon.