The Prince and The Gift
  • Reads 291
  • Votes 13
  • Parts 6
  • Time 1h 35m
  • Reads 291
  • Votes 13
  • Parts 6
  • Time 1h 35m
Ongoing, First published Mar 15, 2017
Mature
Prince Viktor hated war. He hated slavery. He hated anything that could make one feel lesser than any other. But one day, he was offered a very special ... gift. A man. A man with the most beautiful face and loving eyes he had ever seen. A captured slave named Yuuri.

OR

Viktor is all nice and comfortable in his lonely county until he falls stupidly in love with a slave who's afraid beyong his life and now he doesn't know what to do.

Notes:

Okay so I've been working quite hard on this thing for a little while now, I hope you'll like it! ^^'

Thank you so much to Watercra for being my beta-reader as well as BleachBaby1525 for being my editor! :D (BleachBaby1525 has a DeviantArt and Fanfiction.Net account if ever you wanna check it out, she writes so well!)

Also, the image is a fanart my friend Lilixee did especially for this fic! Check out her Deviantart! https://lilixee.deviantart.com/art/Yuri-Fanart-669419619
All Rights Reserved
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The first omega was tall, a few inches shy of Viktor's own impressive height and breathtakingly beautiful. His messy black hair caressed the edges of his high, delicate cheekbones that tapered into a soft jawline with dark pink lips, full and curved with a seductive cupid's bow. But it was his eyes that threatened to take the very air from Viktor's lungs. The tall omega glanced over at the guests, his eyes meeting Viktor's for a moment. It was quick and brief, a passing glance but it was those eyes that almost seemed to pin Viktor to the spot. A rich honey brown, piercing; those were not the submissive, soft eyes of a normal omega. No omega would willingly meet an alpha's gaze with so much defiance and fire. The second omega was more petite, soft and lithe. His blond hair trailing delicately along his exposed shoulders highlighting the curve of his neck despite a heavy iron collar. He met Otabek's gaze then and there they lingered. The moment those emerald green eyes met his, the Kazakh felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. Those were no gentle, delicate omega eyes. They were hot with anger and steel, unyielding and unforgiving. ~*~ A wild love story between a yakuza and a bratva