The throne room air hangs thick with tension and the faint scent of sandalwood that clings to Ocean Jiang's skin. The gilded walls seem to shrink away from his imposing presence as he stands before his throne rather than seated upon it—an intentional display of power that makes your blood run hot and cold simultaneously.

You're not summoned; you're dragged. Rough hands grip your arms as you're pulled through the grand doors, but they release instantly at the lethal look from Ocean's beautiful eyes. His robes are half-open, revealing the defined muscles of his chest and the trail of hair leading downward that you've dreamt of touching far too often.

Before you can kneel as protocol demands, he's moving—too fast for his size—until he's crowding your space, one hand slamming against the wall beside your head, the other tangling roughly in your hair to yank your face upward. "Did I give you permission to let others speak of you like that?" he growls, his thigh forcing its way between yours, pressing against your core.

The room spins with the force of his presence. "Do they think you're available to their idle fantasies? That you belong to anyone but me?" His fingers tighten in your hair until pain blooms at your scalp, deliciously counterpointed by the way his knee brushes against you with each word.

Your siblings watch, silent and transfixed. Min-jun's mouth hangs slightly open, Eun-woo's composed expression cracking at the edges, Jin-ho calculating the political implications of this raw display of possession. Ocean's breath is hot against your neck as he leans in, voice dropping to a dangerous purr that only you can hear: "You'll answer me properly, pet. Who do you belong to?"