Becoming the crown prince's obsession.

-Zhen Liya-

That night, the silence of the South Pavilion was a blade, sharp and waiting.

Yan'er helped me undress with quiet hands, her eyes flickering toward the door more times than necessary. I didn't have to remind her to stay alert..she was as tense as I was. We knew something would happen tonight. We just didn't know what form it would take.

The bedding had been changed twice. I had chosen crimson again. It was bolder than tradition called for on a second night, but that was the point. I needed whispers. I needed eyes.

We lay down, dressed in our night layers. Neither of us truly closed our eyes.

The incense burned slowly. The shadows on the walls twisted like coiled serpents.

"You did it?" I whispered.

Yan'er nodded without turning her head.

"By midafternoon, the kitchen maids were whispering about Lady Ning Xiu's outburst. By evening, it reached the east court. It'll be at the Vermilion Hall before midnight."

I let out a slow breath. The last time, the Crown Prince hadn't come.

He hadn't cared.

But this time… if the butterfly effect truly was shifting the pieces, then the rage of his principal wife might spark his possessiveness.

He would come.

He had to come.

Because tomorrow, the Empress Dowager would summon all of us. And she would ask questions. Questions about whether the marriage had been consummated. Questions about heirs. And if the answers weren't right, the punishment would fall not on him…but on me.

Just like last time.

-Flashback — Last Life-

I had been summoned to kneel outside the Jade Harmony Hall.

Snow had fallen the night before. I had no cloak. Just a pale robe and the cold, seeping into my skin like shame.

"Still untouched?" the Empress Dowager had said, her voice sweet with venom. "Do you think yourself too fine for His Highness?"

I had bowed lower.

"I am his wife," I had said. "But he has not…"

"Silence."

Her personal maid, an old viper named Matron Lin, had come the next morning to inspect my sheets.

"You must bear him heirs quickly," she had said. "Your value lies in your womb. If not that, then why were you chosen?"

That humiliation. That silence. That ache.

All of it branded me and had fueled my death in the past life.

Now, in this second life, I wasn't going to repeat that mistake.

Yan'er stirred beside me. "Someone's coming."

I sat up slowly.

A moment later, soft footsteps..measured, slow..approached the main door. No eunuch called out a name. No loud announcement.

Just a knock,Three soft raps.

I stood, heart steady. Yan'er rushed to light the lantern and open the door.

He stood there.

Robe black with silver trim. Hair undone. No crown. No guards. Only him.

His eyes landed on me instantly.

I bowed low. "Your Highness."

"You were expecting me?"

"I hoped."

His lips curved into something unreadable. "Hope can be dangerous, Lady Zhen."

He entered. Yan'er closed the door behind him and vanished into the side chamber without a word.

I stood alone before him.

He didn't speak. Just walked slowly toward me, his eyes scanning every inch.

"You look different tonight," he murmured.

"It's the lighting."

"No. It's you."

He stepped closer, and I looked away just slightly…shy, soft. Exactly how I knew he preferred. In my last life, I had been too still, too withdrawn. Now, I would be silent..but not detached. Submissive..but not absent.

He reached out and lifted my chin.

"Do you fear me?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Why?"

"Because I cannot read you, Your Highness."

He stared at me. Then said, "Good."

I swallowed hard. He moved toward the bed and sat down, beckoning me forward.

I approached, hesitantly.

He leaned back, watching me.

"You're different from how I imagined," he said.

"You imagined me?"

He didn't answer.

I sat beside him, letting the edge of my night robe fall just enough to expose one shoulder…bare, soft, and deliberate.

His gaze darkened.

"You planned this?" he asked.

"I planned to survive," I replied.

He chuckled…low and dangerous.

"What a strange little wife I've married."

He reached out, pulling me gently until I was straddling him.

"Did you hope I'd come to you tonight?" he asked.

"Yes."

"And if I hadn't?"

"I would have cried again," I said, voice low. "But not where anyone could see."

That made something flicker behind his eyes.

He touched my cheek, and this time, it wasn't possessive. It was almost gentle.

"Did you cry the first night?"

I hesitated, then nodded.

"Why?"

"Because I thought I failed again."

He frowned. "Again?"

I swallowed the panic. "As a wife. I meant as a wife."

He stared at me. Then slowly, he leaned in, brushing his lips against my shoulder.

"I don't want to be manipulated," he whispered. "But I want to touch you anyway."

"Then touch me," I said.

His hands slid to my waist. He lifted me with a strength that startled me, laying me gently onto the bed.

He hovered above me, one hand beside my head, the other cradling my hip.

"I will not be merciful," he said.

"I do not ask for mercy."

His lips crashed down on mine.

Outside, the moon climbed higher.

Inside, the silence was broken only by breath and skin.

This time, I would not be discarded. This time, I would not be pitied.

This time, I would win.

His kiss burned like incense on bare skin..slow, winding, and consuming.

He kissed me like a man tasting a forbidden fruit he had claimed anyway.

His body was heat and shadow above mine, his hands framing my waist, fingers digging slightly into the soft silk of my night robes. My breath came shallow, my hands trembling as they gripped the fabric of his sleeves. There was no hesitation in him. Only hunger disguised in quiet control.

He pulled back for just a breath, and in that pause, I saw the war behind his eyes. His chest rose and fell, ragged. He wasn't struggling to resist me. He was struggling to be gentle.

"You're shaking," he said, voice low and rough. "Are you frightened?"

"Yes," I whispered. "But not of you."

His brow furrowed. "Then what?"

"That I won't be enough."

He stilled. Then, with a growl, he leaned down, his mouth grazing the curve of my jaw, then lower…my throat, my collarbone. His lips were fire. His teeth, barely restrained.

"You're too much," he murmured darkly. "You don't even know what you're doing to me."

I gasped when he bit down lightly at the base of my neck…not enough to break skin, but enough to leave a mark. He kissed it afterward, as if in apology, and I felt my heart stutter.

He shifted, undoing the sash of my robe with slow, reverent fingers. I lay beneath him, baring everything.

His gaze roamed over me like possession made flesh.

"Perfect," he murmured. "So soft… so delicate."

My pulse throbbed in my throat. "I've never… done this."

"I know." His voice softened. "I can feel it in every inch of you. You're untouched."

He kissed the dip of my shoulder, then my chest, slow and worshipful.

"I'll be careful," he said.

I nodded, unable to speak.

He moved with grace and dominance, pressing me gently into the silken bedding. His hands caressed but also claimed..like he wasn't just touching, he was marking. His mouth trailed heat, his fingers following with purpose.

Every whisper of his skin against mine sent sparks coiling in my belly.

And when the final moment came..the moment that would make me his completely..I braced, not with fear, but with silent resolve.

Pain blossomed between my legs, sharp and tormenting,but I didn't cry out.

He paused, lips brushing my temple. "Breathe," he said. "Just breathe."

And I did exactly as he had said.

I breathed, and let him in.

-His Highness's POV-

I'd never been with anyone like her.

Liya didn't whimper. She didn't beg. She didn't seduce. And yet, every glance, every brush of her breath against my neck, unraveled me.

She was trembling beneath me…but she didn't run.

She opened her arms. She accepted me.

When I bit her collarbone, I meant to warn her.

But she only arched into me, like she'd been waiting for that exact pain.

She was mine.

My control snapped the moment I entered her. The blood…gods, the blood. I saw it and almost stopped. But then she looked up at me, eyes like two shimmering pearls, wide and soft, and said nothing.

She trusted me. Completely.

I moved slowly at first, holding her as if she'd break.

But the more she moaned..soft, breathy, helpless…the harder it became to restrain the beast clawing behind my ribs.

She gripped my arms. Her fingers dug crescents into my back. She cried out when I hit a spot deep within her and gasped my name like a secret.

I kissed her again, this time bruising. My tongue slid against hers and she whimpered into my mouth.

I bit her again. Her shoulder. Her throat. I marked her.

Not out of cruelty…but because she made me feel something I didn't know I had left inside me:Obsession.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

She let me have all of her.

And I gave her everything back, thrust by aching thrust, kiss by desperate kiss.

When we finally collapsed, tangled together in the heat of it all, she rested her head on my chest. Her breath feathered against my skin.

I stared up at the ceiling, heart pounding.

The bite marks I'd left on her would be seen.

Tomorrow, the Empress Dowager would summon them all. They'd look to Liya. They'd see the red on her neck. The blooming bruises.

And they'd know.

She was no longer a symbol. She was no longer a pawn.

She was mine.

I stroked her hair once. Her lashes fluttered but she didn't wake. Her face was peaceful now…no longer tense with pain, but soft in rest.

Earlier, I'd thought she was too quiet.

But now, I realized:

She'd been crying in her sleep the night before.

And I hadn't touched her.

This time, I held her until dawn.

And I didn't let go.