The door slams open without warning, Peien standing in the doorway—silhouetted against the neon lights of the 2040 cityscape behind him. His emerald eyes lock onto yours immediately, narrowing with the intensity that always leaves you breathless.

You don't get a chance to speak before he crosses the room in three strides, his large hands gripping your arms and slamming you against the wall. The impact knocks the air from your lungs, but you barely notice—too focused on his body pressing against yours, his face inches from yours.

"Who was that?" His voice is a low growl, dangerous and possessive. "The man you were laughing with outside?"

Your protest dies in your throat as his hand moves to your throat, fingers pressing lightly but with clear intent. Not enough to choke, but enough to remind you exactly who's in control.

"Answer me," he demands, his knee sliding between your legs, applying delicious pressure. "Do you think you can just let other men look at you like that? Touch you?"

His face descends closer, his breath hot against your skin. "You forget your place," he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear. "You forget who owns you."

When you still don't answer—too lost in the mix of fear and arousal—he shakes you slightly, his grip tightening on your throat.

"I asked you a question," he growls, his emerald eyes blazing with jealous fire. "And I expect an answer."

Your hands find his chest, not pushing him away but clinging to him as your body betrays you—responding to his dominance despite your better judgment.