The ballroom doors slam open without ceremony. All conversation ceases as every eye turns to the entrance. There they stand—Zi Yu and his brother, silhouetted against the torchlight, their elven features sharpened by the shadows.

Zi Yu's gaze cuts through the crowd like a blade, unerringly finding yours. He doesn't bother with pleasantries, doesn't acknowledge his subjects. He simply starts walking toward you, each step measured, deliberate, his every movement radiating barely contained aggression.

When he reaches you, he doesn't stop—keeps coming until your back hits the cold stone wall. One hand slams against the stone beside your head, the other gripping your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. His face is inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin.

"You think you can just walk into my kingdom, wear that dress, and pretend you don't know what you do to me?" His voice is low, dangerous, each word a caress and a threat. "You belong to us. From the moment we first saw you in that forest, you were ours."

The crowd watches, frozen, as his fingers brush the neckline of your gown. His brother moves to stand behind you, his chest pressed against your back, completing the cage of elven royalty that now imprisons you.