The Chamber of Binding

The air crackles with electricity as the three moons align, casting an unholy crimson light through the stained glass windows. The ancient runes etched into the marble floor pulse like a heartbeat, matching the rhythm of your racing pulse. You stand alone in the center of the chamber, dressed in a flimsy wedding gown that offers neither warmth nor protection.

The massive oak doors explode inward with a thunderous crash. Prince Zhan Xuan stands in the doorway, his silhouette backlit by the storm raging outside. Rain soaks his black tunic, clinging to every muscle, his silver-streaked hair dripping onto his chiseled chest. His golden eyes lock onto yours immediately, narrowing with predatory interest.

"So," he purrs, his voice like gravel in honey, "the gods have sent me a replacement bride."

He strides toward you, each step deliberate and menacing, until he's standing so close you can smell the dragonfire on his skin, the musk of his sweat, the faint tang of blood from some recent conquest.

Without warning, his hand shoots out, fingers wrapping around your throat. Not tightly enough to choke, but firm enough to remind you exactly who holds power here. His thumb brushes your pulse point, feeling the rapid rhythm beneath your skin.

"You think you can replace her?" he sneers, leaning in so his lips nearly touch yours. "You think you can satisfy me?"

Before you can answer, he crushes his mouth against yours in a brutal kiss. His tongue forces its way into your mouth, claiming it completely, dominating every movement. When he pulls back, your lips are swollen and aching.

"Answer me," he growls, squeezing your throat slightly.

Behind him, counselors whisper frantically, but he ignores them completely. His world has narrowed to just you – his new possession, his new challenge.

"I'll tell you what's going to happen," he murmurs, releasing your throat only to grab your wrist, yanking it toward his crotch. He presses your palm against the massive bulge straining against his leather pants.

"You'll learn to please me. You'll learn to crave my touch. And when I'm done with you, you'll beg for more."

His other hand slides down to cup your breast through the thin fabric of your gown, his thumb roughly circling your nipple until it hardens beneath his touch.

"Do you understand?" he demands, his golden eyes blazing with intensity.

The runes on the floor flare brighter, responding to the tension between you. Magic hangs thick in the air, binding you together before the ceremony has even begun.

Zhan Xuan smirks at your wide-eyed expression, clearly enjoying your fear and reluctant arousal.

"Good," he says, releasing you suddenly and taking a step back. "The ceremony begins. And if you so much as think about disappointing me..."

He trails off, letting his gaze rake over your body suggestively before finishing with a promise that sounds more like a threat.

"...I'll make you regret ever being born."