episode 2

Your heart raced as his dark eyes burned into yours. The air around you felt heavier, charged with an energy only he could bring.

"You think I won’t do it?" he whispered, his cold fingers sliding down your arm.

You smirked, challenging him. "I think you like teasing me more than actually proving your words."

His jaw clenched, and in a flash, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer until your chest pressed against his hard, tattooed body. His scent—something dark and intoxicating—wrapped around you. His lips hovered near your ear, his voice a deep growl.

"You really don’t know what you’re playing with, do you, my queen?"

A shiver ran down your spine, but you refused to look away. You traced a finger over the tattoo on his chest—Mine Queen👑—your name forever inked on his skin.

"I think you love when I test you," you murmured.

His grip on your waist tightened, his breathing ragged. He leaned in, his lips brushing dangerously close to yours. "I don’t love games. I love you. And I don’t share."

Your pulse pounded. You could see it—the storm inside him, the battle between control and obsession.

"Then prove it," you whispered.

His lips finally crashed onto yours—cold, demanding, and filled with all the possessiveness he had held back. The kiss was deep, raw, and unrelenting, as if he was sealing a claim he would never let you escape from.

As he pulled away, his fingers trailed over your lips, his voice husky. "You’re mine. And I’ll make sure you never forget it."

His kiss still lingered on your lips, sending shivers down your spine. His grip on your waist remained firm, as if he was afraid you would slip away.

"Say it," he demanded, his voice deep, his breath cold against your skin.

You looked up at him, pretending to be innocent. "Say what?"

His eyes darkened. In a blink, he lifted you, pressing your back against the wall. His strong hands pinned you in place, his body so close you could feel his cold energy seep into your skin. His six-pack abs tensed under your touch, his lip piercing glinting under the dim light.

"Say that you’re mine," he growled, his fingers tilting your chin up. "Say it, or I’ll make you."

A thrill ran through you, but you weren’t going to give in so easily. You smirked. "And what if I don’t?"

His jaw clenched. Shadows in the room flickered as the air grew colder. He was losing control.

"Then I’ll have to remind you," he whispered, voice laced with dangerous intent.

Before you could respond, the lights went out completely. A thick, icy mist wrapped around you, and suddenly, you were no longer against the wall—you were on your bed, pinned beneath him. His strong arms caged you in, his tattoos shifting like they were alive.

"No one else can touch you. No one else can have you," he murmured against your skin. His lips ghosted over your jawline, his breath chilling yet intoxicating.

Your heart pounded. His possessiveness should have scared you, but instead, it made you crave him more.

"You’re mine, my queen. And I’ll make sure you never forget it."

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