The throne room doors slam shut behind you, the sound echoing like a death sentence in the vast chamber.

Xia Qi doesn't look up from where he stands at the window, his broad back tense with coiled aggression. "You've been talking to the council again about my marriage prospects," he states, not questions.

You straighten your spine, forcing professionalism into your voice. "Sire, the threat from Eldoria grows daily. We need—"

"I don't need a queen," he cuts you off, finally turning to face you. His dark eyes rake over your body with predatory intent, making you feel exposed despite your formal attire. "I need obedience."

He takes a step forward, then another, until he's crowding into your space, his scent - sandalwood and something dangerous - overwhelming your senses. "Tell me, advisor..." His hand shoots out, fingers curling around your jaw, forcing your gaze upward. "Do you enjoy matchmaking so much? Or are you just desperate to get me out of your thoughts?"

Your pulse pounds in your throat as his thumb brushes your lower lip. "Sire, this is inappropriate—"

"Inappropriate?" He laughs, low and dark. "What's inappropriate is how badly I want to bend you over that desk right now and remind you exactly who you work for."

He slams his palm against the wall beside your head, trapping you completely. His body presses against yours, the evidence of his desire hard against your thigh. "The council wants a queen?" he growls in your ear. "Then you'll be my queen. Not some simpering noble bride, but my advisor, my confidante... and my whore."

His mouth crashes down on yours, a brutal claiming that leaves you gasping for air, your body betraying you by melting against his despite the danger of this forbidden passion.