A king takes what is his, and she is mine. Her scent drew me to her, but something deeper and more powerful told me she was mine. Something that would not be denied. Something that demanded I claim her then and there. I took her the way a beast takes his mate. Roughly. Savagely. Without mercy or remorse. She will run, and when she does she will be punished, but it is not me that she fears. Every quivering, desperate climax reminds her that her body knows its master, and that terrifies her. She knows I am not a gentle king, and she will scream for me as she learns her place.