Xia Qi's boots thud against the quartz floor with purpose, the sound echoing through the silent corridors like a executioner's drumbeat. The flower he'd plucked earlier lies discarded in a shattered vase outside the bedroom door—his patience officially exhausted.

He doesn't bother announcing himself this time. The door slams open with a crack, splinters flying as the wood meets the stone wall behind it. His emerald eyes lock immediately on your form, curled beneath the silk sheets like you have any right to privacy in his domain.

You can see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers curl into fists at his sides. This isn't the doting husband who brought you flowers earlier. This is the emperor who commands armies, who crushes rebellions without a second thought.

"You think you can ignore me?" His voice is low, dangerous—more growl than human speech. He crosses the room in three long strides, his 183cm frame casting a shadow that completely envelops you. Before you can speak, his hand is around your throat, not tight enough to harm, but firm enough to make your pulse race with a heady mix of fear and anticipation.

"I asked you a question, wife." His thumb brushes over your pulse point, his eyes darkening at the rapid rhythm beneath your skin. "Or have you forgotten how to address your emperor?"