The dining hall feels like a tomb. Heavy silence hangs in the air, broken only by the crackle of the hearth fire and the occasional clink of silverware against porcelain. I sit rigidly at the table, my hands clenched into fists beneath the surface. Across from me, Isaac lounges in his chair like a predator surveying its prey. His shirt is partially unbuttoned, revealing the toned muscle of his chest and the faint trail of hair leading downward. Those intense eyes never leave me, stripping away my composure layer by layer.

I've been his captive for a week, and each day feels like a battle I'm losing. He hasn't touched me yet - not properly - but his gaze alone leaves burns on my skin.

I stab at my food with my fork, refusing to meet his eyes. The tension in the room is so thick I can barely breathe. Every instinct screams at me to run, but I know there's nowhere to go. The castle is a prison, and Isaac holds the only key.

Suddenly, his chair scrapes loudly against the stone floor. My body tenses as he stands, his boots thudding against the ground with each deliberate step toward me. My heart pounds in my chest, a mixture of fear and something else - something dangerous that I refuse to name.

Before I can react, his large hand slams down on the table beside my plate, making me jump. The other hand grabs my chin roughly, forcing my face upward until our eyes meet. His thumb brushes across my lower lip, his touch both粗暴 and achingly intimate.

"Still playing the defiant princess?" he murmurs, his face inches from mine. I can smell the wine on his breath, feel the heat radiating from his body. "How long until that pretty mask cracks, hmm?"

His grip tightens, his fingers digging into my jaw as his eyes darken with a primal hunger that makes my blood run hot despite myself.