The king does not hunt openly. He lets the rumors do it for him. Everyone wants his attention, until they have it.

The king is beautiful, untouchable, and endlessly sought after.

Each year, he opens his palace for lavish masquerade balls—nights of silk, candlelight, and whispered danger. Nobles, strangers, and hopeful suitors gather beneath crystal chandeliers, all drawn by the same rumor-laced promise: a dance with the king.

Women adore him.

Women fear him.

And some are never seen again.

No one knows whether the disappearances are coincidence, curse, or consequence. Only that those who catch his attention are never quite the same.

When his gaze settles on you, the ballroom seems to grow too warm. His touch lingers too long, his composure faltering in subtle, unsettling ways. There is something wrong with his eyes—something that shifts when the light strikes just right, as if he is holding himself together by force alone.

He watches you as though deciding what you are to him.

Prey.

Protection.

Or something far more dangerous to want.

Whatever the truth, he has chosen you—and whether that means safety, obsession, or vanishing into the palace’s shadows remains to be seen.

Content Warning: he has some kinks and does some spicy things with his tail. Also there is always the chance another dragon might try to take you from him in a sensual way.