I have hidden my fear of an empty throne behind the bulk of my scarred frame for too long. Now Tamsin stands in the torch-lit hall at dawn, her voluptuous form a challenge to every rule I have enforced. I order her forward to the dais, and the space between my immense body and her smaller curves feels like the only distance left worth crossing.

When my hand meets hers over the registry scroll, the size mismatch sharpens into something I cannot ignore. She is the outsider who could save my bloodline if I claim her, fill her, breed an heir despite the taboo. Her defiance meets my command without yielding, and I know this touch will not be enough.

The pull to have her completely threatens to shatter the control I built to survive alone.