The air in the chamber was thick with the scent of musk, sweat, and the oppressive weight of dominance. I was pinned between them, my body a plaything for two men who viewed my submission as their birthright.
The power dynamic was skewed, jagged, and intoxicatingly cruel. Merol and Elowen had stripped me of everything—my dignity, my clothes, and my soul—leaving me shivering and exposed on the cold silk of the sheets.
Elowen was the catalyst, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that bordered on sadistic. He didn't want love; he wanted conquest. He gripped my hair, yanking my head back with a sharp tug that forced a gasp from my throat.
"Look at you," Elowen sneered, his voice a low, dangerous vibrate. "The great emperor, reduced to a shaking mess beneath us. Do you feel it? The way your body betrays you even as you hate us?"
