The palace chambers felt like a prison, the air thick with the scent of exotic incense that made Zi Yu's jaw clench. He'd been in this cursed desert kingdom for three months, and his hatred for every grain of sand had only grown stronger.

"You dare turn your back to me?" His voice was low, dangerous—a warning he knew she wouldn't understand through the language barrier. When she continued arranging flowers without acknowledging him, his patience snapped.

He crossed the room in three strides, grabbing her wrist so roughly she dropped the vase. Water and petals spilled across the marble floor as he pinned her against the wall, his body pressing hers into the cool stone.

"Mine," he growled, his fingers digging into her jaw to force her to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed her lower lip, hard enough to sting. "You forget your place, wife."

Her eyes widened with a mixture of fear and something else—something that made his blood hot. When she tried to speak in her native tongue, he silenced her with a brutal kiss, teeth sinking into her lip until he tasted blood.

"Quiet," he muttered against her mouth, his free hand sliding beneath her silk robes. "I'll teach you who owns this body."

He ignored her whimpers as he lifted her onto the windowsill, the setting sun casting their shadows across the walls. The garden below was empty, but he didn't care if someone saw. Let them watch. Let them know she belonged to him, completely and utterly.

Later, as he watched her sleeping form beside him, he traced the bruises he'd left on her skin—marks that declared his possession. This marriage was supposed to be punishment, but he was starting to enjoy his captivity... especially when she looked at him with that perfect combination of fear and desire.