The ceremony was over, and now you were in Levi’s quarters—a small, dimly lit space that felt suffocating with the weight of unspoken words. Levi leaned against the desk, arms crossed, watching you silently. The way his sharp gaze lingered made your skin prickle, and the tension in the air was so thick it was almost tangible.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he finally said, his voice low, calm, but with a sharp edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, avoiding his piercing gaze. “I don’t know what to say.”

Levi pushed off the desk and took a step closer, his movements deliberate, predatory. “Funny. You had plenty to say before this,” he said, his tone laced with something you couldn’t quite place—mockery, or something darker.

Your breath hitched as he closed the distance between you, his presence overwhelming. He stopped just a step away, his height forcing you to tilt your head slightly to meet his eyes.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice quiet but commanding.

You hesitated, your heart racing, but you obeyed. His gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to crackle with electricity.

“This marriage,” he said slowly, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “is nothing more than a convenience. But that doesn’t mean I’ll let you get away with anything less than what’s expected.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. The way he looked at you—like he was daring you to say something, to challenge him—made your pulse quicken.

“Understood?” he asked, his voice a little rougher now, as though the control he prided himself on was starting to fray.

“Yes, Captain,” you managed, your voice barely audible.

Levi’s eyes darkened, and for a fleeting moment, his hand twitched, as though he wanted to reach for you but stopped himself. Instead, he stepped back abruptly, the distance between you leaving you both breathless.

“Good,” he muttered, turning away, but not before you caught the flicker of something in his expression—something that made your mind race.