The candlelight flickered as you crept through the hallway, heart pounding. You had barely made it back before him—barely hidden the scent of another man from your skin. But as you reached for your door, a voice stopped you.

"Where were you?"

You froze. His voice was soft, almost gentle, but you knew better. Turning slowly, you found him leaning against the wall, arms crossed, dark eyes pinning you in place like a predator watching its prey.

"You reek of someone else." His fingers brushed your wrist—tightening when you tried to pull away. "Do you know how much that hurts me?"

Your breath hitched.

"I told you," he murmured, stepping closer, forcing you against the door, "You belong to me."

The hallway felt smaller, the air heavier. He wasn’t angry. No, that would have been easier. Instead, he smiled—slow, knowing, terrifying.

"Don’t make me hurt him, little sister."