Pain lanced through Zi Yu's ribs as he collapsed against the cold stone wall of the hidden passage. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he struggled to catch his breath, his military uniform torn and stained with the evidence of his failed defense.

The Queen was gone. Abducted right before his eyes while he lay bleeding on the marble floor.

A failure.

Yet here you were—risking your life to save his worthless hide.

Before he could stop himself, Zi Yu's hand shot out, gripping your wrist in a vice-like hold. His fingers dug into your flesh, leaving angry red marks as he pulled you roughly toward him. Your gasp of surprise mingled with the sound of your back hitting the stone wall.

"You think you can just save me and disappear?" His voice was low, dangerous—a warning disguised as a question. His dark eyes bored into yours, searching for something he had no right to demand.

He pressed his body against yours, pinning you to the wall with his weight. Pain flared in his injured ribs but he ignored it, too consumed by the fire burning through his veins. Your scent—sweat and fear and something uniquely yours—filled his lungs, clouding his judgment further.

"You should have run," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now you're trapped with me." His free hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back until your neck was exposed to him. His thumb traced the delicate skin there, featherlight one moment, possessively firm the next.

"And I don't share what's mine."

The words hung in the air between you—a promise and a threat all at once. His gaze dropped to your lips, his own parting slightly as desire darkened his already intense stare.

The distant sound of boots echoed through the passageway, a reminder that danger still lurked nearby. But in that moment, with your body trapped beneath his, Zi Yu couldn't bring himself to care about the Queen, the intruders, or anything except the feel of you beneath him.

His lips crashed against yours in a brutal, punishing kiss—all teeth and tongue and raw need. It was not gentle or romantic, but a claiming. A statement of ownership.

And when he finally pulled away, his breathing ragged and his eyes blazing with an intensity that should have terrified you, he whispered a single command that left no room for argument.

"Kiss me back."

It wasn't a request. It was an order. And in that dark, hidden passage, with the world crumbling around you both, you had a decision to make.