Ch 1

The grand doors slammed shut with a finality that made Noah flinch, the echo splintering the silence of the cavernous royal bedchamber. Cold air slithered down the back of his neck as he stood frozen, cloaked in silk, dressed in ceremonial white, wrists trembling at his sides and.....waiting.

Boots echoed like war drums across the marble floor, each stride slow and deliberate, the sound bouncing through the hollow stillness. The air thickened with something sharp and suffocating. Power. Possession.

Prince Caius stopped in front of him. Close....Too close.

A rough hand rose,controlled and confident, catching his consort's chin and forcing his gaze upward. Ice-blue eyes swept across his face, not with awe... but with appraisal.

“So this is what all the fuss was about,” Caius murmured, voice low, dangerous. “A hidden little prince with a womb.” *chuckles*

His gaze dipped, pausing at Noah’s lips, lingering at the delicate curve of his throat. Hunger flickered in his eyes, not desire, but something colder. A claim ?

Yes a claim.......

His thumb pressed beneath Noah’s jaw and leaned in, his breath brushing warm across Noah’s skin.

“I don’t care what you want, Noah,” he said, voice dropping into a growl. “I married you for a throne. You exist to carry my heir, and that purpose begins now.”

         < INTRODUCTION >

NOAH VALE

●18 years old

●Hidden Prince of the kingdom Elaris

●Intersex; (no breast but have vigina) capable of bearing children

●Delicate, graceful, and breathtakingly beautiful

●Features softer than a male, sharper than a female

●Quiet, sensitive, and emotionally fragile

●Married off in a political deal to Prince Caius of Dareth

●Scared of Caius as he is older, colder, and powerful

●Feels more like an offering than a spouse

kingdom of ELARIS

Made of white stone just like in fairytales

• a once-reclusive, ancient kingdom known for its mystics, fertility myths, and powerful royal bloodlines.

Caius Thorne

●32 years old

●Crown prince of the kingdom Dareth

●Cold, commanding, and feared on the battlefield

●Known for his ruthlessness and lack of emotional attachments

●Avoided marriage and commitment his entire life

●Forced into marriage to secure the throne

●Currently married to Prince Noah Vale of Elaris

●Seeks an heir, not a partner

Kingdom of Dereth (DARE-eth)

A kingdom surrounded by mountains

•a brutal, militaristic empire known for conquest, iron discipline, and a blood-stained throne.

Let's continue.........

(present time)

“Speak. Do you understand your role?” Caius growled

“Good,” he says smoothly as Noah nodded hesitantly, his thumb grazing Noah's lower lip again. “At least you’re not stupid.” Caius scoffed

Noah doesn’t need to speak. His eyes betray everything—fear, humiliation, silent obedience. Caius sees it all. And it feeds something dark in him. Something he no longer tries to hide.

“Trembling already?”

He lifts Noah’s chin, gaze unreadable.

“This will be a long night for someone so soft.”

His fingers linger at the hollow of Noah’s throat, then drop away — slow, dismissive.

Caius steps back without another word, turning toward the ornate chair near the hearth — tall-backed, carved in black wood like a throne. He lowers himself onto it with a lazy kind of grace, legs spread, one arm draped over the armrest. Watching. Waiting.

“Strip,” he says simply. No urgency. No warmth. Just command.

His eyes don’t leave Noah for a second.

“Do it properly. I want to see what I paid for.”

Noah didn’t move. He stood frozen, wide-eyed, lips parted slightly as if the words hadn’t quite landed. A flush crept up his neck, but it wasn’t shame — it was confusion. His brows drew in the faintest bit, like someone trying to solve a riddle they were never taught to read.

(ofc he is the most innocent soul and doesn’t even know what mating is ,til now he thought ,just sleeping on same can produce child)

Whereas Caius......

“I didn’t take you from the ashes of your kingdom to stand there trembling like a lamb.”

(His voice is low, dangerous.)

“You want to survive here? Then start learning. Obedience earns you breath. Defiance takes it away.”

(His gaze drags down Noah’s, slow and calculating.)

“Now… undress. Let me see what my kingdom paid for.”

Noah’s hands moved, slow and unsure, trembling at the seams of his gown. His eyes didn’t lift. He didn’t speak. Just the soft rustle of silk as he fumbled with the ties at his shoulders, fingers stiff and cold.Veil stayed in it's place — the only thing left shielding him from the weight of Caius’s gaze.

The gown slipped, inch by inch, down his arms.

His breath caught, chest rising and falling too fast, too shallow.

He had always feared fire — and Caius felt like flame.

So he did what fire demanded: he yielded.

The silk pooled at his feet, revealing skin pale and bare, clothed only in delicate white lace — crafted for a wedding, never meant for a war.

He stood there in silence, stripped and small, waiting for the burn.

something like this

He watches Noah, gaze darkening as the silk gown slips to the floor. His lips twitch — not with amusement, but something closer to approval.

“Hmm.” A low sound, barely a breath.

“No wonder your people hid you.” snickers

His eyes drag over Noah’s body like a slow touch, claiming every inch with a look alone.

“They dressed you like a gift.” His voice deepens, almost a growl.

“And I intend to unwrap every inch.”

He leans back into the chair, legs spread, command curling in his tone like smoke.

“Come to me, my little prize.”

A soft flush crept across Noah’s cheeks — faint, but unmistakable.

Of course he blushed. Who wouldn’t, standing half-naked before a man like Caius? Cold and cruel, yes — but still striking, commanding, impossibly handsome. And now… his husband.

At the sound of Caius’s voice, Noah moved. Slowly. Carefully. Each step hesitant, the sheer veil still clinging to him like a last shield. He kept his gaze low, trying to hide the heat in his face — but Caius saw it.

And smirked,

Not kindly. Not gently. But with the dark satisfaction of a man watching his prize come forward, unwrapped and obedient.

When Noah reached him, he stopped—just a breath away. Caius sat still, legs spread, his presence like something carved from stone.

A slow smile curled on his lips.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice low and rich with something unreadable. “Obedient little prince. All soft and silent like you were made for this.”

“You listen well. I like that.”

Then, without warning, his hand closed around Noah’s slender wrist and tugged him forward, pulling him down—slowly, deliberately—onto his lap.

Not with tenderness. With claim.

Noah gasped softly as he was guided onto him, knees brushing silk, lace pressed to cold leather.

Still, Caius didn’t rush.

He let his palm drift upward—fingertips trailing over the curve of Noah’s shoulder, then along the line of his collarbone, slow enough to feel every shallow breath.

He moved across the sheer lace that clung to Noah’s chest, tracing the edge of it with idle interest, like peeling back wrapping on something precious.

Then lower—over his narrow waist, the hollow beneath his ribs, the softness that silk had only hinted at.

All the while, Caius watched.

Watched him tremble.

Watched him blush.

Watched him breathe like prey caught in a hunter’s hold.

Caius moved again—slow, precise—as if handling something fragile.

His fingers reached for the edge of the veil, the only thing still shielding Noah’s face.

And then, carefully, deliberately, he lifted it away.

For the first time, he saw him.

The full curve of soft lips.

The flushed cheeks.

And those eyes—wide, glass-green, and glimmering like shattered emerald under candlelight.

Caius froze.

Just for a second.

Long enough to feel it—his heartbeat. Sudden. Loud. Unwanted.

Noah was…

“Stunning,” Caius breathed, almost to himself.

It wasn’t praise. It was a truth he hadn’t expected.

Something in his chest tightened—And Caius, the man who never faltered, forgot to breathe.

His hand rose, almost on its own, brushing a loose strand of hair from Noah’s cheek. Then, slowly, deliberately, Caius leaned in.

His hand cradled the side of Noah’s jaw as if handling something breakable.

And then his lips touched his.

Soft. Careful. A breath more than a kiss at first.

Caius let himself sink into it—not with hunger, but with quiet possession. He didn’t devour. He memorized.

The warmth. The softness. The way Noah froze, like even this was too much.

Then a sound slipped from Noah’s throat — soft, involuntary, and sweet.

It sparked something in Caius’s chest.

A flicker in his heart.

A twist low in his stomach.

It lit something in him.

Something dark. Needy. Dangerous.

He pressed in harder.

His lips moved with more weight now—still controlled, but firmer, deeper. Not quite gentle anymore.

Like he needed to taste that sound again.

To drag more of it from Noah’s mouth. To swallow it whole.

And for a moment, he did.

He kissed like a man tasting what was never meant to be his — and daring to keep it anyway.

Noah’s fingers twitched against Caius’s chest, unsure whether to cling or pull away.

His lips parted under the weight of the kiss, not in understanding — but in surrender.

A soft sound escaped him.

Barely more than a breath — something between a gasp and a whimper.

High, unsure, and unintentional.

The kind of sound that came from instinct, not thought.

A shiver followed it, tracing down his spine.

His breath stuttered in his throat, and his knees pressed in slightly, thighs tensing where they rested on Caius’s lap.

He didn’t move. He didn’t speak.

Just trembled — breathless, red-cheeked, still.

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