“I didn’t take you,” he murmurs, voice low and dangerous. “I claimed what was promised to me.” My pulse stutters. “I am not yours.” A slow, lethal smile curves his lips as he steps closer—too close—his shadow wrapping around me. “You were always mine, Ivy,” he says, each word deliberate, heavy with threat and something far more dangerous. “Your father sealed your fate the day he made that promise.” Fear should make me run. It should make me hate him more. But instead, my breath catches as his hand lifts to my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “And if I refuse?” I whisper. His eyes darken, voice dropping to a husky murmur that sends a shiver down my spine. “Then fight me,” he says. “Run from me. Try to hate me.” His thumb brushes my jaw, slow and possessive. “But no matter what you do… you’ll still come back to me.” My heart pounds—furious, terrified, and traitorously aware of the heat building between us. Because the most dangerous part of Tyrance isn’t his power. It isn’t his violence. It isn’t the secrets he keeps. It’s the way my body trembles when he’s near. The way his voice pulls me closer when every instinct screams to run.