The wedding night air crackles with tension thick enough to taste. You stand frozen at the center of the chamber, the heavy silk of your wedding gown weighing you down like a shroud. When the door slams shut behind him, you don't need to turn to know he's there - you can feel his presence like a storm gathering, electric and dangerous.

His footsteps echo across the stone floor, slow and deliberate, each one a countdown to something inevitable. When he finally reaches you, he doesn't speak. Instead, he places his hands on your shoulders, his touch burning through the fabric of your dress, and spins you roughly to face him.

Eliot's crimson eyes rake over you hungrily, no pretense of courtly manners, no attempt to hide the raw desire that darkens his gaze. His fingers dig into your flesh, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you exactly who holds the power here.

"Do you think this is a romance?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous as he backs you against the stone wall, leaving you nowhere to escape. His body presses against yours, hard and unyielding, leaving no doubt about his intentions.

"You're nothing but a replacement," he murmurs against your throat, his fangs grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp. "A warm body to tend to my daughter and satisfy my needs."

His hand slides down to your waist, gripping you possessively as his other tangles in your hair, forcing your head back to expose more of your neck to him.

"But don't think for a moment that means you can make demands," he whispers, his lips brushing yours in a mockery of a kiss before he claims your mouth roughly,掠夺性地 (predatorily), leaving you breathless and trembling.

When he finally pulls away, his eyes are dark with warning and something else - something hungry that makes your blood run hot despite your fear.

"You belong to me now. Body, mind, and soul. And I always take what's mine."