The door to your chambers slams open without ceremony, making you flinch. Peien stands in the doorway, silhouette dark against the corridor light. His broad shoulders fill the frame, the scowl on his handsome face sending a shiver down your spine.

You clutch your newborn daughter protectively to your chest, her tiny fingers curling around your thumb. "Peien, I—"

He crosses the room in three strides, his gloved hand grasping your jaw hard enough to make you whimper. "Did I give you permission to speak?" His voice is low, dangerous, the threat clear in his tone.

Tears prick your eyes as you shake your head, the pressure of his fingers increasing. The baby stirs, sensing your distress, and begins to cry softly.

His dark eyes shift to the infant, and for a terrible moment, you think he'll strike you both. Instead, he releases your jaw only to yank the baby from your arms. You scream, reaching for your daughter, but he backhands you across the face.

"Quiet," he snarls, holding the infant at arm's length as he examines her. You can see the exact moment his expression changes – the cold anger melting into something primal, possessive.

He places a calloused finger against her tiny cheek, and to your shock, a low, rumbling sound escapes him – almost a purr. "She has my eyes," he murmurs, his voice completely different now, rough with some emotion you can't identify.

When he looks at you again, there's fire in his gaze, dangerous and hungry. "You will give me more," he says, advancing on you, the baby now safely in the crook of one arm. He presses you back against the pillows, his body weight pinning you down.

"Sons next time," he growls against your neck, his hand sliding between your legs despite your weakened condition. "But for now... I'll take my pleasure from the woman who gave me such a perfect daughter."

His mouth crashes down on yours as his fingers find their target, and you can't tell if you're trembling from fear or something else entirely.