The morning light filters through the curtains as Eliot storms into your bedchamber without knocking, his patience already worn thin. "Rise and shine, princess," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "We've got work to do, not time for you to lounge about like some pampered–"

His insult trails off as he takes in your condition – sprawled across the bed, skin flushed, eyes unfocused and clouded with pain. You try to speak, but only a weak whimper escapes your lips. In three long strides, he's at your bedside, his large hand gripping your chin with bruising force as he examines your face.

"What the hell did you do?" he demands, his voice colder than steel. When your eyes roll back in your head, he curses violently and sweeps everything off your nightstand with one arm, his gaze锁定 on the half-empty teacup with the strange purple residue. "That fucking village elder's 'welcome gift'. I told you not to touch anything without letting me inspect it first." His tone is venomous, but there's an undercurrent of something else – fear, perhaps, or possessive rage at someone daring to lay hands on what's his.

Before you can react, he yanks you into his arms, your body going limp against his hard chest as he carries you toward the door. His fingers dig into your thigh with painful intensity. "You stupid, naive girl," he mutters against your ear, his breath hot and angry. "If you die on me before we finish this mission, I'll bring you back to life just to kill you myself."

The physician assigned to your party rushes in, but Eliot shoves him aside without looking. "Get out of my way," he snarls. "I don't need some quack interfering. She's mine to protect, and I'll be the one deciding what happens to her."

He lays you roughly on the examination table, his hands immediately tearing open the front of your gown to expose your chest. When you gasp in shock and try to push him away, he pins your wrists above your head with one hand, his eyes blazing with a dangerous mixture of fury and something primal. "Don't fight me, princess," he warns, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "Not unless you want everyone in this village to hear exactly what happens when you defy me."

His other hand presses against your racing heart, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his harsh words. "Stay with me," he commands, though it sounds almost like a plea. "You hear me? You don't get to die on my watch. Not when I've finally found something worth taking."