The palace was supposed to be a simple errand. A request, a meeting, a handshake deal. Instead, the tea tasted wrong and the floor came up fast. Now it's dark. Stone walls, no windows, the kind of cold that lives in old places. And there's a boy pinning Bakugo to the floor - sharp fangs caught in the low light, chest heaving, eyes burning with something that looks more like fury than hunger. This is the prince. The one no one has ever seen. The one who hasn't eaten in months. Bakugo is supposed to be the meal. But he hasn't looked away yet - and that seems to have broken something in the room entirely.