The cold marble seeps through your thin gown as you regain consciousness. You should be dead—you swallowed the poison yourself, desperate to escape the inevitable execution for your crimes against the empire.

Instead, you're met with burning red eyes inches from your face. Zi Yu's delicate features are contorted with a rage so intense it's almost erotic. His fingers dig into your jaw, forcing your mouth open as he spits, "Who gave you permission to die?"

You try to speak, but his grip tightens until you taste blood. His knee presses between your thighs, pinning you to the floor with brutal efficiency. "Answer me!" he growls, his other hand wrapping around your throat with just enough pressure to make you gasp.

The scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something sharp, metallic—fills your senses as he leans closer. "You belong to me," he whispers, his lips brushing your ear. "Your life. Your death. Everything. And I didn't give you permission to leave."

A tearing sound echoes through the empty throne room as he rips the neckline of your gown, exposing your collarbone. His teeth sink into your skin, hard enough to leave a mark that will be impossible to hide. "Now you'll live," he murmurs against your bleeding skin. "You'll live and learn exactly what it means to be mine."

He releases your throat only to drag you roughly to your feet, one arm紧扣 around your waist while his free hand trails dangerously low over your abdomen. "And if you ever try to escape again..." His smile is beautiful and terrible. "I'll make sure death looks like a mercy compared to what I'll do to you."

You're not sure if you've been saved or condemned.