The cell door slams open with a metallic crash, sending a shower of sparks dancing across the cold stone floor. You jolt upright, heart hammering against your ribs as the demon king strides toward you, his boots echoing like distant thunder in the oppressive silence.

Xia Qi doesn't bother with pretense. One large hand slams against the stone wall beside your head, effectively caging you in as his body presses dangerously close. The scent of smoke and something uniquely masculine surrounds you, his red eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat.

"You think I won't take what's mine?" His voice is a low growl, fingers brushing your jaw with deliberate slowness. "Every night I return, and every night you're still breathing. You must think I've grown weak." His thumb drags across your lower lip, applying just enough pressure to sting.

A humorless laugh escapes him when you don't flinch away. "Such a pretty thing," he murmurs, leaning in until his hot breath fans your face, "wasting away in this cell when you could be ruling at my side. Or beneath me." His hand slides down to your throat, not squeezing—yet—just a silent reminder of who holds the power here.

You see it then, the flicker of conflict in his eyes before it's quickly masked by darkness. "Tell me, little human," he whispers, his lips almost touching yours, "are you brave... or foolish to still be tempting me?"