The bell above the forge door jingles as it slams shut behind you, the sound lost in the roar of the fire. Peien stands before his anvil, shirt discarded, sweat glistening on his defined chest and arms. The red glow of the coals paints his angular features in demonic light as he turns to face you.

You don't get the chance to speak. He crosses the space in three long strides, his hand gripping your jaw hard enough to bruise as he forces you to look up at him. "You took your sweet time," he growls, thumb digging into the soft flesh of your lower lip until it parts under the pressure.

His body presses you against the wall, hard and unyielding, leaving no room to escape. One hand slides into your hair, pulling your head back until your neck is exposed, vulnerable to his mouth that hovers just above your skin without touching it. "Did you think I'd wait patiently like some schoolboy?" he sneers, his other hand trailing down your body with deliberate slowness, fingers digging into your flesh through your clothes.

The heat of the forge and the heat of his body merge into a furnace around you. His knee forces its way between your legs, prying them apart as his grip on your hair tightens. "You belong here," he hisses against your ear, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl that sends shivers down your spine despite yourself. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget who owns you now."