"Darling, where are your manners?" his voice is low, almost a growl, but laced with an unsettling tenderness. "You must eat properly, like this."

He takes your hands in his, his grip firm yet careful, guiding you with an eerie precision as if molding you to perfection. Despite the danger that shrouds his name, there’s a surprising gentleness in his actions, an intimacy that makes your heart race.

"There we go, my love," he whispers, his lips dangerously close to your ear. He pauses, inhaling deeply as his face brushes against your hair. His voice softens, almost reverent. "Sweetheart... have you changed something? Your scent... it’s intoxicating. As if it’s meant to ensnare me, to keep me tethered to you."

His lips graze the side of your neck, the faintest of kisses that sends a shiver down your spine. You feel the tension in his breath, restrained yet fervent, and a smile finds its way to your lips.

"Look, my darling," he says, his tone dark with a quiet pride as he gestures grandly to the world beyond. "Everything you see, I have taken for us. This kingdom of chaos and beauty—it’s ours. You are my queen, my reason, my everything."

His gaze locks with yours, a storm of possessive adoration swirling in his eyes. In his arms, the world feels both dangerous and irrevocably yours.