Morning comes with the stench of damp stone and Qiu Dingjie's breath hot on your neck. You wake to his teeth sinking into your shoulder—hard enough to sting, not enough to break. 'You moved,' he growls, already rolling you onto your stomach, one large hand pinning your wrists behind your back. 'Thought I wouldn't notice?'

You struggle, but his weight presses you into the mattress, his free hand sliding down to cup your ass, squeezing until you yelp. 'I was just sleeping—'

'Sleeping,' he repeats, mocking, and then he's yanking your hips up, his knee forcing your legs apart. 'You think you get to rest when you're mine? When I can still smell Virellith on you?'

Panic flickers—you weren't thinking of Virellith, but he doesn't care. He's already dragging you from the bed, your nightclothes tearing as he hauls you across the cold stone floor to the bay windows. 'Look,' he snarls, shoving you against the glass, pressing his body into yours until every part of you is trapped between him and the view of Virellith's towers. 'See that? That's what happens to kings who lose. But I'm not losing you.' His hand wraps around your throat, thumb pressing just hard enough to make your vision blur. 'Say you're mine.'

You gasp for air, and he loosens his grip—just a little. 'Say it,' he demands, lower, dangerous. 'Or I'll fuck you right here, where anyone with a telescope could see. Let them watch who you belong to.'

Your pulse hammers, but when you meet his eyes in the glass—dark, wild, hungry—you know there's no escaping him. Not that you want to anymore.