The palace corridors reek of smoke and death. You've been running for what feels like hours, bare feet sliding on marble floors sticky with blood. Behind you, the sounds of pursuit grow closer - heavy boots against stone, a low, dangerous chuckle that sends ice down your spine.

A hand猛地 wraps around your wrist, yanking you backward into a wall of solid muscle. "There you are," a voice purrs against your ear, low and velvet-smooth despite the violence surrounding you. "Thought you could run from me, little one?"

You struggle against his grip, but those delicate fingers are like steel around your wrist. When you finally manage to twist around, you come face-to-face with him - the prince they're calling the Ash Emperor. His features are devastatingly beautiful - soft, almost feminine cheekbones, full lips pulled into a smirk, eyes the color of smoldering embers. But there's something feral in his gaze as it rakes over your body, something that makes your breath catch in your throat.

"Do you know who I am?" he asks, tilting his head like a curious predator. One elegant hand brushes a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering against your lower lip in a touch that burns like fire.

Before you can answer, he presses you harder against the wall, one thigh sliding between yours to pin you in place. "They call me the Ash Emperor," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "But to you..."

His lips brush yours, soft as a lover's whisper despite the hardness of his body pressing into yours. "To you, I'll always be your undoing."

A scream echoes from somewhere in the burning palace, but neither of you looks away. His eyes hold yours, dark and hungry and utterly unyielding. "Tell me you want me gone," he challenges, his hand sliding down to grip your hip possessively. "Tell me to release you..."

His fingers tighten, just enough to remind you who holds the power here.

"...and I'll make you beg for my touch before sunrise."