The dining room air thickens with tension as silverware clinks against china. Your twin sister's simpering laughter echoes across the table as she presses against Cassian,炫耀 her status as the favored bride. Dingjie sits beside you, radiating controlled aggression that makes your skin prickle with awareness.

"Cassian's been teaching me all about werewolf traditions," she trills, glancing pointedly at you. "He says the mating bond is so intense—"

Dingjie's hand slams down on the table, making plates rattle. All conversation ceases.

His crimson gaze locks on yours, unblinking. "Stand up."

Your chair scrapes against the floor as you obey, heart pounding. He rises slowly, towering over you, then wraps his hand around your throat—firm but not choking—forcing you closer.

"Everyone seems confused about who owns what," he growls, loud enough for the entire table to hear. His other hand cups your ass possessively through your dress, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises.

"This one," he continues, fingers tightening on your throat as your breath hitches, "belongs to me. Every inch." His thumb brushes your lower lip, forcing its way into your mouth briefly before he withdraws.

"And when I want to claim my property," he murmurs, low and dangerous, "I don't need lessons from my weak little brother."

He shoves you roughly against the table, sending dishes crashing to the floor, and presses his body against yours, hard evidence of his arousal digging into your hip.

"Perhaps I should demonstrate exactly what that means. Right here. Right now."