Golden sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows of the throne room, casting fractured rainbows across the polished marble floor. Nobles sipped wine and whispered compliments, their voices a low hum of admiration for Lucien Vale, the kingdom’s celebrated hero. To the world, he was flawless, confident, the perfect image of valor and honor.

But the king’s gaze was different. Dark. Heavy. Every conversation hushed as his low voice rumbled through the hall, silencing even the boldest courtiers.

“Lucien,” the king said, each syllable weighted with gravity.

Lucien turned immediately, bowing deeply, his polished armor gleaming in the sunlight. The warmth of the noble’s applause faded behind the tension radiating from the throne.

Lucien clear blue eyes was lock on the floor, golden-brown hair falling a little forward. 

“You are to track down and eliminate the Moon Prince,” the king continued, his eyes never leaving Lucien’s. “The feared werewolf responsible for the deaths of noble children… and for burning a village to ashes.”

A murmur rose in the room, but the king’s voice cut through it like steel. “He must be stopped. You are the kingdom’s hero — the one they trust, the one they celebrate. Go, and do not fail.”

Lucien’s jaw tightened. Inside, a flicker of doubt stirred. He had faced enemies before, but this… this was something beyond ordinary. A creature of myth, whispered about in fear. He swallowed, bowing again, hiding the uncertainty behind his practiced smile.

“As you command, Your Majesty,” Lucien said, his voice steady for the world, though his heart thudded against his ribs like a war drum.

Lucien walked out of the ballroom, his boots echoing softly against the marble. The murmurs of the nobles faded behind him, replaced by the distant neighs of horses in the royal stables. He made his way there, each step measured, his mind racing despite his outward calm.

He vaulted onto his white horse, the animal’s muscles rippling beneath him, and urged it forward. The forest swallowed the path, shafts of sunlight cutting through the dense canopy in golden streaks. Lucien’s eyes scanned the shadows between the trees, sword at his side, but his thoughts were a storm of worry and doubt. Am I truly strong enough? Can I face this Moon Prince and survive?

The forest seemed endless, the path twisting and narrowing, until finally the air grew thick with the acrid scent of smoke. Ahead, the ruins of a village emerged through the morning mist—charred beams, toppled walls, and ash-covered ground. Silence hung over it like a shroud. No birds sang, no animals stirred; only the wind whispered through the broken remnants.

Lucien slowed his horse, scanning the destruction with a mix of horror and awe. Every ruined house, every blackened frame, told a story of power and vengeance far beyond what any human could wield. Somewhere in this devastation, the Moon Prince waited.

And Lucien’s heart pounded—not with fear alone, but with a strange, gnawing anticipation.

The ruins were eerily silent as Lucien dismounted, his boots crunching over ash and broken wood. He drew his sword, the blade glinting dully in the filtered sunlight. Every instinct screamed caution; every sense was heightened. Somewhere in this desolation, the Moon Prince waited.

A shadow shifted among the ruins. Lucien froze. The figure stepped forward—tall, fluid, moving with a predator’s grace. A mask of white covered its face, dark moon painted on the forehead, black stripes streaking from eyes to mouth. The aura around him was cold, commanding, impossible to ignore.

“You shouldn’t have come here, hero,” the masked figure said, voice low and smooth, like smoke curling through the air.

Lucien raised his sword, trying to steady his shaking hands. “I’ve come to stop you,” he said, though every rational thought wavered under the intensity of the figure before him.

The Moon Prince didn’t attack immediately. He circled Lucien with a predator’s precision, eyes—violet and glowing faintly through the mask—locking onto Lucien’s. The air between them was electric, a dangerous tension that made Lucien’s chest tighten.

Then the battle began.

Raven moved with impossible speed, dodging Lucien’s strikes effortlessly. Each swing of Lucien’s sword was met with a counter or a graceful leap back, as if the shadows themselves bent around the masked figure. Sparks of magic flared with every clash, illuminating the ruins in brief bursts of violet light.

Lucien fought with every ounce of strength and skill, but a misstep sent him stumbling backward. The masked figure advanced, calm and unhurried. In that instant, the mask slipped from Raven’s face, cracking slightly along the edge.

Lucien froze.

Beneath the mask, the Moon Prince’s features were breathtaking—silver-white hair falling around his shoulders, flawless pale skin, and eyes the color of molten violet, glowing faintly with power. His beauty was otherworldly, terrifying, impossible. Lucien’s heart stuttered. His sword trembled in his hand.

“You… you’re beautiful,” Lucien whispered, breathless, as if saying it aloud would summon some terrible consequence.

Raven paused, violet eyes narrowing—not with anger, but with intrigue. “And you… are unafraid,” he said softly, his voice carrying both warning and curiosity.

without an other word, Raven press closer, pressing Lucien against a tree.

"w-what--" Lucien voice broke was lips clash into his, Lucien hands clensh into fits and he tried to push Raven away but a strong plae hand grips his, holding both his ahnd over his head. "fighting, hmm..." Raven voice was low, smooth.

sending shivers down Lucien back. 

Lucien glare into those breath taking violet eyes "i'm a hero, i'm not going to lose to a--what you doing!?" 

Raven had ship open Lucien pants, one hand already sliding over Lucien staff, "gnh" the sound left Lucien unwilling.

"stop, that." Lucien growl, trying to wriggle free but Raven hand jsut tighting its grip on his wrist, "not so fast, little hero"

his hand slip under the hem of Lucien underwear, his big warm hands wrapping around Lucien harden members, stroking in slow tesesing motivon.

"hgnh, ngh..don'y touch me--nghn--like that" Lucien voice broke into a moan, yet his eyes glare, "make me." Raven chuckle a smirk playing on the werewolf prince lips, he tease the sesnetivv tip. making Lucien head lean back.

Lucien hips bucked against his will, "you fucking basterd" he snarl, as Raven movement got faster, moans echo off the tree, Lucien head rest on Raven shoulder as he try to hold back, yet the way Raven long selder hands gripping him.

the way Raven shiftet between fast and hard movemnt to irrtating slow and soft.

only made Lucien closer to the egde, Raven lean in, Lucien felt the way the man ress his nose to his neck, before teeth penetrating his skin, pushing him the last bit over the egde, thick, warm, whtie cum spill all over Raven hand, Raven pull back. 

"well that was fun, but let me not see you another time, or i kill you...for real this time, little human hero"

Before Lucien could respond, the Moon Prince vanished, leaving only the whisper of wind and the faint glow of his violet star flickering through the shadows.

Lucien stood frozen among the ruins, sword lowered, chest pounding. Fear, awe, and something far more dangerous stirred within him. Obsession had taken root.

I have to see him again.