The Great Hall fell silent the moment he moved.

You'd been cornered by the southern prince, his hand lingering too long on your arm, when Zi Yu's voice cut through the murmurs like a whip. "Touch her again, and I'll remove your fingers."

The prince paled. You didn't—couldn't—look away from Zi Yu as he crossed the room. He moved like a predator, every step deliberate, his dark grey robes whispering with the promise of violence. When he reached you, he didn't bother with pleasantries. His hand wrapped around your upper arm, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises, and he hauled you away from the crowd.

"You think this is a game?" he snarled, shoving you against a pillar in the shadowed corner of the hall. The stone bit into your back, but his body pressed closer, trapping you. His scent—sandalwood sharpened with sweat—flooded your senses. "These boys with their pretty words? They don't deserve to breathe the same air as you."

His knee slid between yours, forcing your legs apart, and his hand tangled in the violet ribbon he'd left on your pillow last night—now woven through your hair. He yanked, hard, until your head fell back, exposing your throat. His thumb brushed the pulse there, rough and demanding.

"Tell me you're mine," he grated, his face inches from yours. "Right now. Before I make you scream it so the whole damn empire hears."