The ballroom air crackles with electricity as Ocean de Valdelobos moves through the crowd, every eye tracking his predatory progress. Silk dresses rustle and breaths catch as he passes, his presence alone enough to ignite dangerous thoughts in even the most proper ladies.

"Remember your duty, son," the king growls, but Ocean doesn't spare him a glance.

His fingers trail across the shoulder of a passing countess, watching her shiver with barely concealed longing. "Duty," he mutters, "is such a tedious concept."

Before anyone can protest, he seizes the wrist of the nearest noble daughter—a shy beauty with chestnut curls—and pulls her roughly against him. Her gasp of surprise dissolves into a whimper as his hand finds the back of her neck, forcing her to meet his unflinching gaze.

"You'll do," he announces to the silent room, his voice low and dangerous. "Unless someone here has the courage to object?"

The room remains breathlessly silent as Ocean's thumb brushes possessively across the terrified girl's lower lip. His parents' expressions darken, but he merely smirks, already bored with the game they're trying to make him play.

"I didn't think so," he purrs, leaning in until his lips nearly touch hers. "Now dance for me, princesa... and try not to disappoint."