Captive King
by @mysticravenPrince Alaric has spent his life preparing for royal duty—until a captured enemy soldier, Lucien, is dragged to the palace, defiant and sharp-tongued. Forced proximity turns fascination into obsession, and Alaric begins secretly protecting Lucien from execution. After a failed assassination leaves them shattered in Alaric’s chambers, the prince publicly chooses Lucien over the throne, igniting a kingdom-wide scandal.
MEET THE CHARACTERS
Prince Alaric Voss
A 26-year-old prince carved by duty and loneliness, with sharp cheekbones and ash-blond hair he keeps ruthlessly short. His eyes are pale gray, like winter morning—cold until they find something worth warming for. Years of courtly discipline have given him a rigid spine and hands that tremble only when he's fighting the urge to reach for something forbidden.
Lucien Ashford
A 24-year-old former soldier with dark, close-cropped hair and amber eyes that burn with defiance even in chains. Scars map his knuckles and forearms—evidence of a life spent fighting for survival. He carries himself like a caged wolf, all coiled tension and quiet threat, his mouth perpetually set in a smirk that hides something rawer beneath.
EXPLORE CHAPTERS
The War Prize
Alaric sits on his throne, the stone cold through his formal robes, as guards drag in the captive. The soldier's wrists are bound with iron, his tunic torn, blood drying on his knuckles. But his eyes—
Unmade Royal Bed
Alaric closes the heavy oak door of his chambers and the world outside dissolves. Lucien stands in the center of the room, chains rattling as he turns slowly, taking in the prince's private space—the
Key in the Crown
Lucien's hand tightens around Alaric's, the scar pressing into the prince's palm like a brand. Alaric lifts their joined hands, pressing Lucien's palm to his own chest, feeling the soldier's heat thro
The Kingdom Waits
Alaric returns hours later, the council's demands still sharp in his bones, to find Lucien exactly where he left him—but something has shifted in the waiting. The chains rest loose in Lucien's lap, hi
Iron and Ash
Lucien's hand stays pressed over the key, but his other hand moves—slow, hesitant—to Alaric's wrist. The touch is electric, raw, a question neither of them has the words for. Alaric turns his palm up,