The King’s Unclaimed Mate(BL)

The king hadn't expected anything when he walked toward the river that night.

He hadn't expected to find anything.

For days, his search had turned up nothing. His soldiers, his scouts—none had uncovered even the faintest trace of the beauty who had slipped through his fingers.

He had begun to wonder. Had he imagined it?

Had the river played tricks on him? Had the moonlight woven a dream so vivid that he could still feel the heat of that untouched body against his skin?

He had wanted to let it go. The Queen's warnings still echoed in his mind. The whispers in the palace had grown restless, the people uneasy with his obsession.

So tonight, he had come not as a king hunting his prey—but as a man seeking silence.

The moment he approached the river, the cool night air wrapped around him. The river ahead gleamed like silver under the moon, the mist rolling lazily across the surface. The scent of damp earth, of water and midnight, filled his lungs.

And for a moment, he felt nothing.

Just the quiet hum of the night.

Nothing unusual.

No sign of—

Then it hit him.

A scent.

Faint. Lingering.

But unmistakable.

His body went rigid, his breath stalling as the delicate, lingering fragrance wrapped around him like silk. It was unlike anything he had smelled before—soft, faintly sweet, almost ethereal. Like moonlight on water.

His fingers twitched at his side.

He took a step forward. Then another.

His pulse quickened, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he followed the invisible trail, his senses sharpening with every step.

And then—he saw him.

His breath caught.

It couldn't be.

And yet, there he was.

Reclining on a thick branch that stretched over the water, his form half-hidden by the shadows of the tree.

Bare skin kissed by the moonlight.

A robe hanging loosely off his shoulders, its fabric slipping further down his arms with every soft inhale.

A delicate waist chain resting low on his hips, the metal links shimmering faintly as his chest rose and fell.

He wasn't moving. His head was tilted slightly to the side, dark lashes fanning over his cheeks, lips barely parted as he lay in quiet slumber.

The king swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.

The world around him fell away.

For nights, he had dreamed of this sight. For weeks, he had hunted for this elusive beauty. And now—

Now, he was here.

Not just a fleeting figure in the distance. Not a mirage slipping through his fingers.

But close. Real.

Touchable.

His body reacted instantly.

Heat surged low in his stomach, thick and heavy, his arousal pressing hard against his robes. The tension that had coiled inside him for days snapped into something primal, something dangerously close to losing control.

His river beauty.

So unguarded. So unaware.

He inhaled sharply, his grip tightening as his gaze roamed hungrily over every inch of exposed skin. His eyes traced the smooth curve of his collarbone, the faint rise and fall of his chest, the dusky pink of his nipples, pebbled slightly from the cool night air.

Lower.

The delicate chain resting just above his hips, drawing his gaze to the teasing dip beneath the robe's folds.

His mouth went dry.

He should leave.

He should turn away.

But he couldn't.

His steps were slow, soundless, his fingers trembling as he reached out. Just a touch—just a whisper of his skin beneath his fingertips.

The moment his hand met warm flesh, a shudder rolled through him.

Soft.

Warmer than he had imagined.

His fingers ghosted over a bare shoulder, tracing the elegant curve of Caelum's collarbone before skimming lower, barely brushing over his chest. The slight rise and fall beneath his touch made his breath hitch.

Still, Caelum did not stir.

Reckless desire coiled inside him.

The king leaned in, his breath hot against the smooth expanse of skin. His lips brushed over Caelum's throat, a featherlight kiss just above his pulse. He exhaled, savoring the scent, the heat.

A taste.

He needed a taste.

His tongue flicked out, tracing the faintest path along the delicate skin of Caelum's neck, drinking in the soft, elusive flavor of him. He tasted clean, untouched—like rain and something sweet beneath it.

The king's restraint wavered.

His lips wandered lower, trailing over his collarbone, teeth grazing, tongue following. He bit down—gently, but enough to mark.

Caelum shifted slightly in his sleep, a faint murmur slipping past his parted lips.

The king froze.

But he didn't wake.

A slow, wicked smile curled against the king's lips.

His beauty was so trusting. So vulnerable.

The sight of him like this—completely unaware, completely his for the taking—made the king's arousal throb painfully against his robes.

His hand moved lower.

Trembling fingers ghosted over Caelum's waist, tracing the fine chain resting against his hips. His palm skimmed beneath the loose folds of fabric, feeling the warmth of skin untouched by the night air.

A quiet groan escaped the king's throat.

It wasn't enough.

His other hand moved to undo the ties of his own robe, freeing himself from the unbearable ache. His cock was hot, heavy in his grasp, pulsing with need as he began to stroke himself—slow at first, teasing, dragging the pleasure out.

But his hunger only grew.

With his free hand, he continued to touch Caelum, fingertips mapping out the soft, forbidden places he had only dared to dream of.

His lips traced downward, lower—

And still, Caelum slept.

The king's breathing turned ragged, the rhythm of his strokes growing urgent.

His beauty lay so close, so untouched, completely unaware of the sinful worship being offered to his sleeping body.

The thought alone sent fire rushing through his veins.

And when release finally struck him, it was with a force that made his body tremble.

His grip tightened as he came, his climax spilling hot against his fingers. His head fell forward, his breath heavy, his lips still pressed against Caelum's skin.

For a moment, all he could hear was the frantic pound of his own heartbeat.

Then—

A soft inhale.

A faint shift.

And the slow flutter of dark lashes.

Caelum stirred.

The king went still.

His river beauty was waking.