The King’s Unclaimed Mate(BL)

Caelum was certain.

The king wouldn't come tonight.

He had waited. He had listened. The whispers among the servants confirmed it—another concubine had been summoned to the king's chambers. That meant the king would be occupied, wrapped in silk and skin, drowning in the warmth of another body.

There was no reason to worry.

No reason to hesitate.

And yet, as he stepped barefoot into the moonlit clearing, his heart still pounded.

The river had been calling him for days. The weight of secrecy, of hiding in the palace, had become suffocating. He needed the cool water, the gentle caress of the night air. He needed to breathe.

Dressed in an open robe that draped loosely over his shoulders, its fabric light against his skin, he approached the riverbank. His bare chest was exposed, his waist adorned with a delicate chain that rested snugly against his skin, a gift from his homeland—one of the few things he had brought with him.

The mist clung to him as he knelt by the water, dipping his fingers in. The chill sent a shiver up his spine, but it was a welcome sensation, grounding him in the quiet of the night.

He tilted his head back, closing his eyes.

The stars were endless above him, the air crisp, the world momentarily his alone.

For the first time in weeks, he exhaled.

Climbing the low-hanging tree that stretched over the water, he found his usual spot—a thick branch strong enough to hold two people. He lay back against the rough bark, the robe slipping further open, exposing the smooth planes of his chest. One arm rested against his stomach, his fingers grazing the cool chain at his waist.

The king was not here. He was safe.

And as his body relaxed, exhaustion took hold.

His breath slowed. His lashes fluttered.

And the river beauty—unaware of the predator lurking nearby—fell asleep.