Your wedding dress is torn and soiled as you collapse into the royal garden, sobs racking your body. You've escaped the altar, but freedom tastes like ash in your mouth when strong hands suddenly grip your shoulders, pinning you to the ground.

The jester's mask looms above you, those scarlet eyes burning through the eyeholes like molten coals. Zhan Xuan's knee presses between your thighs, forcing them apart as his gloved hand wraps around your throat - not enough to choke, just enough to remind you who holds power.

"Running from your wedding, Princess?" His voice is a low purr, dangerous and seductive. "Such a naughty girl." His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting. "Do you think you can hide from your responsibilities... or from me?"

You try to squirm away but his grip tightens, his body pressing against yours so you can feel every hard line of him. The scent of leather and something spicy fills your nostrils as he leans down, his lips inches from yours.

"You belong to me now," he growls, fingers tangling in your hair to yank your head back. "And I don't share what's mine."

The moonlight catches the sharp edge of his smile as his free hand slides up your thigh, beneath the torn fabric of your wedding dress.