The journey to Evermere had been long, yet the Alpha king felt nothing—no exhaustion, no anticipation. He was an unmatched force, a ruler with the strength of a god. And yet, despite his might, he found no joy in what awaited him at the end of this road.
A mate. A marriage. A bond he neither needed nor desired.
As they neared Evermere's borders, his army halted within a dense, ancient forest, thick with the scent of damp earth and blooming nightshade.
"Your Majesty, allow us to accompany you," one of his generals urged.
"No," the king replied coldly.
He despised constant company. He did not need protection, nor did he enjoy suffocation. The hunt was his only escape—the one thing that made his pulse quicken with something other than obligation.
And so, he disappeared into the wild, moving like a shadow between the trees.
The forest was alive with whispers of wind and rustling leaves, but his senses, honed sharper than any blade, caught something else—something delicate. A distant sound, faint yet alluring.
Water.
A river.
Unbidden, his feet carried him toward it, his instincts pulling him closer.
And then—he saw him.
His breath caught.
At the edge of the river, veiled in the golden light of the setting sun, stood the most breathtaking creature the king had ever laid eyes upon.
He was unlike anything in this world—unlike anyone.
Dark, flowing hair cascaded down his back like silk spun from the night sky, the wet strands clinging to his bare skin, dripping crystalline beads of water. His pale body shimmered under the dying sunlight, the fine droplets catching the glow like scattered stars on untouched snow.
He was divine, otherworldly.
Gold adorned his body—thin, delicate chains resting against his collarbone, an intricate choker caressing his throat, bracelets encircling his slender wrists. His ears were pierced with fine gems, their soft glint almost disappearing beneath his damp curls. And his robes—if they could even be called such—were sheer, soaked fabric clinging to his lithe frame, sculpting every dip, every curve of his body in translucent temptation.
The king swallowed, his throat tight.
His golden eyes trailed lower, past the hollow of the stranger's throat, over the delicate rise of his collarbones, down to his exposed chest. The water licked at his waist, but the high slit of his robes revealed toned thighs, smooth and kissed by the fading sunlight. The way the damp fabric stuck to his skin left nothing to the imagination, and yet, it wasn't vulgar—it was art.
The stranger lifted his arms, fingers weaving through his wet locks as he wrung out the excess water. The simple action—so effortless, so unguarded—was the most sensual thing the king had ever witnessed.
His pulse thundered in his ears.
He had lived for years untouched by desire, unshaken by beauty, untempted by the countless Omegas who had bared themselves before him. Yet now, here in the heart of an unfamiliar forest, he hid himself like a fool behind the trees, unwilling to break the spell of this moment.
His body, so used to discipline and control, burned with something foreign.
Want.
He clenched his jaw, fingers curling into his palm.
Who was he?
As if hearing his silent question, the stranger suddenly stilled, tilting his head slightly. His crimson eyes—brilliant, sharp, dangerous—flickered toward the trees, his lips parting slightly.
The king held his breath.
But before their eyes could meet—
"Your Majesty!"
The king snapped his head toward the approaching voices.
When he looked back—
Gone.
The river remained undisturbed, the mist curling over the water's surface as if cradling a secret. The beauty had vanished, like a mirage swallowed by the twilight.
The king stood frozen, his chest rising and falling with measured restraint.
For the first time in his life, he felt it.
An ache. A hunger.
Something he had never once believed he was capable of feeling.
And it terrified him.