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Summary
The 11th Prince of the Tartaglia dynasty was holding back his tears. They were so bitter. This was so bitter. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know what was his Fate, his Destiny. The Prince was nothing but a appetising piece of meat that was shook at the face of every Kings, every Princes of the region.
Those bitter tears were still dangling at his pretty lashes.
Tonight, his body felt hot.
He was feeling it. His first heat. He was ripe, as his mother said, perfect to be wed. it was the opportune moment to give his hand to that Lord, get bred, and bear his heirs.----------------------
Suffering his first Heat, the Prince Childe opened the window of his bedroom. He fough the tears of a promised future he wishes to be saved for. Little did he know that a creature smell the perfume of this heat, and under the shining full Moon, he wishes to claim this Omega, mate him, breed him...
This window is an invitation to him...