I took a deep breath, forcing my racing heart to steady. One slip of my mask, one tremor in my voice, and this man would end me. I had to be perfect.
"Your Highness..."
Before I could continue, his voice rumbled through the space—a deep, suffocating sound that seemed to vibrate in the very air.
"Lady Pati ac Dolor Ellington."
I was terrified.
"What brings you here without an invitation?"
Slowly, deliberately, he turned to face me. His eyes were the color of fresh blood, piercing and unblinking as they locked onto mine. His golden hair caught the sunlight, glowing with a brilliance that was almost blinding. He looked like a god, but I knew he was a monster.
"Why does Your Highness wish to tie himself to me?" I asked, my voice holding firm despite the chill down my spine. "It is no secret that my reputation is... less than favorable."
His gaze didn't waver. He looked at me the way a predator looks at its prey before the kill. "That," he murmured, "is the very reason."
What the hell does that mean? Is this psycho saying I'm an insufferable brat? I felt a flash of anger. "Can Your Highness elaborate?"
In two long, predatory strides, he was in front of me. He towered over me, his shadow swallowing me whole. Before I could react, his hand caught my chin—not gently, but with a controlled strength that forced me to look up.
"Your High—"
Suddenly, his lips crashed into mine. It wasn't a gentle kiss; it was a claim. It was rough, passionate, and desperate, stealing the very air from my lungs. Just as quickly as he had taken my breath, he pulled away, leaving me gasping.
"Ah—ha... why did you—"
Before I could stop myself, my hand flew up to slap the arrogance off his face. But he was faster. He caught my wrist mid-air, his grip like iron. With one large hand, he pinned both of my wrists together and slammed them against the wall above my head.
His mouth found mine again. This time, I didn't just endure it—I fought back. I bit down on his lip until I tasted the metallic tang of blood. He didn't flinch; he groaned against my mouth, his arm wrapping around my waist to pull me flush against his broad chest.
Suddenly, he moved. Still holding me, he backed me toward his desk. With a single sweep of his arm, he sent documents flying to the floor. He hoisted me onto the mahogany surface, his body pressing between my legs, his weight heavy and demanding.
"Your Highness... stop this..." I tried to push, but he was a mountain.
"Lady Ellington," he growled, his breath hot against my ear. "You are mine."
A shiver raced through my entire body. In my entire life, no one had ever claimed me. No one had ever wanted me for me. And now, this psycho was doing it. I felt a confusing surge of fear and desire that made my head spin.
"Your Highness, let go!"
"Mmph." He pressed closer, his body heat searing through my silk dress. The friction was delicious, dangerous, and wrong.
"Your Highness! Let go!"
He suddenly leaned down and bit the skin of my neck, hard. I gasped as he left a mark—a visible, red claim on my skin. That bastard! I wanted to kick him in the ribs.
"You pass the test, Lady Ellington," he said, finally pulling away. He reached out and helped me sit up on the desk, his movements suddenly calm again.
"What test?" I snapped, fixing my hair with trembling fingers. I was done with formalities.
He smoothed the fabric of my dress, his expression unreadable. "You do not need to know the details. Just know that you have caught my eye. And now, you are mine to do with as I please."
Bullshit.
As if I'd let him. He had just made out with me, assaulted my senses, and called it a "test" without explaining a single thing. It made my blood boil.
"Your Highness," I said, sliding off the desk and straightening my spine. "I suggest you keep your hands—and your other parts—to yourself."
I didn't wait for his reaction. I turned and stormed out of his office. I hadn't gotten the answers I wanted, but I wasn't risking another second in that room. I needed to get away from him—and the way he made me feel—as fast as possible.