Zander’s POV.
“You think you can defy me?” I growled, my voice low and dangerous, each word dripping with the fury I could no longer contain. My eyes bore into hers, unflinching as the storm of emotions inside me threatened to consume us both. “You think you can walk away from me? From your duty? You think there won’t be any consequences for your actions?” My voice was sharp, cutting through the tension between us like a blade, every syllable meant to remind her that I wasn’t someone she could simply ignore or defy.
Her eyes met mine, blazing with fury, her defiance burning as brightly as my anger. Her chest heaved as she took a sharp breath, and then her hands came up, shoving hard against my chest. “Get off me, Zander!” she snapped, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. The tremor in her tone only fueled the fire inside me. It wasn’t fear I wanted from her-it was submission. It was understanding. It was the acknowledgment that she couldn’t escape me, no matter how hard she tried.
But I didn’t move. I couldn’t. The sight of her beneath me, so fiercely defiant, so resistant to the bond that tied us together-it only made my anger burn hotter. My jaw clenched as I fought to keep control of myself, to keep my emotions from spilling over completely. Slowly, deliberately, my hands moved from her shoulders to her wrists. I gripped them tightly, pinning them above her head with a strength that left no room for struggle. I leaned down, my face just inches from hers, the heat of my breath mingling with hers as I stared into her furious eyes.
“You’re my wife,” I hissed, my voice a harsh, venomous whisper that left no doubt about the seriousness of my words. “You belong to me. Do you understand that, Aria? You don’t get to leave. You don’t get to run. You don’t get to walk away from what we are. You’re mine, Aria. Mine.” My words were sharp and commanding, each one landing with the weight of the truth I needed her to accept.
For a moment, her expression changed. Her eyes widened slightly, her breath hitching as my words sank in. She froze beneath me, and I thought I’d finally won. I thought she’d finally understand her place, finally accept the reality of what we were. But then she moved, quick and forceful, and I realized too late that she wasn’t giving in.
Her knee came up, fast and sharp, slamming into me with enough force to make me grunt in pain and release her wrists. The suddenness of it caught me off guard, and I stumbled back slightly, my balance faltering as I tried to process what had just happened. Before I could recover, before I could even think about reacting, her hand shot out.
The sharp sound of her palm connecting with my cheek echoed through the small cabin, loud and final. The slap wasn’t hard enough to hurt, not physically, but the sting of it cut deeper than I expected. It wasn’t just the slap-it was what it represented. Her defiance. Her refusal to submit. Her rejection of me. I froze, my head turning slowly back to face her, the heat of her anger radiating between us like a living thing.
She was sitting up now, her chest heaving with the force of her breaths, her face flushed with a mix of anger and determination. Her eyes burned with a fire that matched my own, blazing with emotions I couldn’t name but felt keenly in every part of me. “Don’t you *dare* touch me like that,” she said, her voice trembling but firm, her words cutting through me like a knife. “You think you can control me? You think you can force me to be yours? I will never be yours, Zander. *Never.*”
Her words hit me harder than the slap had. Something inside me snapped at that moment, something deep and raw and uncontainable. All the anger I’d been holding back, all the frustration, all the humiliation I’d felt since the moment I was forced into this marriage-it boiled over, spilling out in a way I couldn’t stop. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I glared at her, my body trembling with the effort of keeping myself from exploding.
I stepped back, putting distance between us, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside me. I could still feel the sting of her words, the way they cut into me like barbs, each one a reminder that she didn’t see me the way I saw her. She didn’t accept the bond that tied us together, didn’t want the life we were supposed to build. And as much as I hated it, as much as it infuriated me, I couldn’t deny the truth of it. She was fighting me with everything she had, and I didn’t know if I could break through.