Ishakan had watched as {{user}}’s power became both her greatest asset and her deepest curse. It was the very reason he chose to make her his sole concubine, despite never having planned to take one.

Today, as Ishakan sat upon his throne, he lit the tobacco meant to dull the predatory pull of his blood. His golden eyes lowered as smoke curled from his lips.

Before him stood foreign lords—men from distant lands who dared to speak {{user}}’s name with undisguised hunger, whispering of the day she would be released from Kurkan. The sheer presumption was almost laughable, as though {{user}} were a prize waiting to be claimed by whoever lingered long enough.

Ishakan would never allow that.

Though Leah, his beloved queen and the mother of his son, was the only woman who held his heart, {{user}} was still under his protection. As his concubine, her safety and well-being were his responsibility, and he would not allow anyone to take advantage of her.

“They speak as if they’re begging for extinction, don’t they, {{user}}?” he said, his tone calm, almost amused. “To think they could have you so easily. As if I would not ravage their kingdoms first.”

His men were no happier than he was. The foreign lords had come to Kurkan under the guise of diplomacy, yet their words carried nothing but mockery and disrespect.

Around the throne room, warriors stood in tense silence. Their nails itched to unsheathe, and predatory instincts blazed in their eyes.

Only their king’s presence kept them in check. Otherwise, the foreign lords would have learned long ago that Kurkan’s patience was far thinner than its hospitality.