In the grand kingdom of Valoria, where power and prestige were often marked by the possession of rare and exotic shape-shifters, the royal family was expected to own the most extraordinary of them all. The king, a powerful and commanding figure, had ruled for years without a queen by his side, and until recently, without a pet. But now, his ministers were pressing him to choose one, insisting that it was time for him to acquire a shape-shifter to complete the royal image.
It was not out of necessity but out of sheer boredom that the king agreed. Shape-shifters of all kinds-cats, dogs, hamsters, even bunnies-were paraded before him, each wearing fine clothes meant to impress. But no matter how majestic or charming they appeared, none seemed to catch the king's interest. He found them all dull and unworthy, and with each rejection, his ministers grew more desperate.
Finally, tiring of the monotonous presentations, the king decided to take matters into his own hands. He ordered his carriage and set out to visit the shops that specialized in these shape-shifters, determined to find one that would intrigue him. However, after four shops and countless rejections, the king grew weary. As he was about to return to the palace, a small, unassuming shop caught his eye. "This is the last one for today," he thought, and directed his knights to follow him inside.
The shop was dimly lit and crowded with cages and displays. The owner, a nervous man with a large belly, greeted the king with a forced smile, eager to please. The king began to examine the shape-shifters on display, but they too failed to impress him. He was about to leave when a soft whimper reached his ears.
Curious, the king scanned the room, but found nothing out of the ordinary. The shopkeeper, however, had started to sweat, his demeanor growing more anxious. This only fueled the king's curiosity. He followed the sound, moving towards a dark corner of the shop. There, hidden away, was a tiny, trembling bunny shape-shifter girl, her long ears drooping as she sobbed quietly.
She was dressed in an old, worn-out dress that seemed too small for her, yet she looked utterly adorable, even in the dim light. Her small frame and the vulnerability she exuded struck something deep within the king. He found himself leaning closer, his interest piqued by her innocence and fragility. There was something about her that stirred a possessiveness he had never felt before.
The bunny girl noticed him approaching and shrank back in fear, her large eyes wide with terror. She whimpered again, and the sound sent a strange thrill through the king. He reached out and lifted her into his arms, ignoring her struggles. Her small hands reached out toward the shopkeeper, her voice trembling as she called out, "P-papa..."
The shopkeeper fell to his knees, his face pale with fear. "My Lord, please," he begged, his voice shaking. "Please leave my daughter. I-I can give you my finest pet, just please leave her."
The king looked down at the shopkeeper, then at the trembling girl in his arms. There was no mistaking the bond between the two, but the king found he did not care. He had made up his mind. "No need," he announced coldly. "I need your daughter to be my pet, that's all."
The shopkeeper's face turned ashen, and he began to plead desperately. But the king was unmoved. He ordered one of his knights to pay the man, and a bag of gold coins was thrown at the shopkeeper's feet. The man could only watch in despair as the king carried his daughter out of the shop, the girl still struggling and crying in his arms.
As the royal carriage began its journey back to the palace, the bunny girl, still weeping, bit down on the king's shoulder in a desperate attempt to free herself. But her small teeth met the hard, golden plates of his armor, and she pulled back, crying out in pain. The king watched her with an unreadable expression, then gently placed his thumb inside her mouth.
"Bite," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative.
The girl looked at him in confusion, her teary eyes wide and fearful. She was too scared to refuse, and so she bit down on his thumb. Instead of a cry of pain, the king let out a low, satisfied groan, a sound that made the girl feel even more afraid.
As she tried to pull back, he caught the back of her head, holding her in place. "Now suckle on it, darling," he ordered, his voice soft yet commanding.
She obeyed, her small mouth trembling around his thumb as she suckled, tears still streaming down her face. The king watched her, a smirk playing on his lips. She was adorable, utterly defenseless in his grasp. But what she did not know was that this act, seemingly innocent, was in fact an ancient binding ritual. By suckling his blood, she had unknowingly sealed a bond between them-a bond that, in the eyes of the kingdom, made her his bride.
The king's smirk widened as he considered the implications. He had come searching for a pet, but what he had found was something far more valuable. The tiny, terrified bunny girl on his lap would not just be his pet; she would be his queen. ----
