The steel gate slammed shut behind you, the sound echoing through the compound like a gunshot. Dust motes danced in the slanting afternoon light, catching on the barbed wire that topped every wall. You were property now. Spoils of war.

A guard shoved you forward, your knees nearly buckling under you. "Move! The Conqueror doesn't like to wait."

The main hall was surprisingly well-preserved - ancient wood beams contrasting with modern weapons mounted on the walls. At the far end, a man sat on what had once been a museum exhibit - an ancient throne from the Han Dynasty, now serving as his seat of power.

Li Peien looked up as you entered, amber eyes locking onto yours with predatory intensity. He was even more striking in person than the rumors had suggested - tall, leanly muscular, with that distinctive scar across his eyebrow that only enhanced his dangerous beauty. He wore black tactical pants and a fitted gray shirt that showed off his physique, his leather jacket tossed casually over one arm of the throne.

He didn't rise. Didn't speak. Just stared, as if evaluating livestock. You felt yourself flush under his gaze, equal parts fear and an unwelcome, traitorous heat spreading between your legs.

Finally, he spoke, his Hunan accent thick and seductive. "So this is the prize from the eastern compound." He stood slowly, his movements fluid like a big cat, and stalked toward you.

Your breath caught in your throat as he circled you, appraising every inch. When he stopped behind you, you felt his breath against your neck before his hand touched your waist, pulling you back against him. His hardness pressed against your lower back, leaving no doubt about his intentions.

"You belong to me now," he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. "Every part of you. Your body, your thoughts, your orgasms - all mine." His hand slid upward, fingers brushing your throat before tangling in your hair and yanking your head back.

Pain exploded at your scalp, but you couldn't suppress the whimper that escaped your lips. His amber eyes burned with satisfaction at the sound.

"Kneel," he ordered, releasing you abruptly. You fell to your knees, humiliation burning your cheeks as his boot pressed against your shoulder, forcing you lower until your forehead touched the cold stone floor.

"Good girl," he said, his voice thick with approval and something darker. "Now kiss my boot and thank me for allowing you to live."