Arina's heart pounded against her chest, each beat echoing the turmoil within her like a thunderstorm raging in her chest. "Please forgive me for what I did that night," she pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation, tears threatening to spill from her eyes like raindrops in a tempest. But Ryan's touch, though comforting, felt suffocating as he caressed her red hair with a tenderness that belied the tension in the air. "My Queen, you are too late to ask," he said, his voice low and commanding, carrying the weight of a king's decree. "What do you want?" Arina asked, her voice quivering as she fought to control her emotions, to suppress the fear that threatened to overwhelm her like a tsunami crashing against fragile shores. "You. It's so simple," Ryan replied, his tone sending shivers down her spine, his words a declaration of possession that chilled her to the bone. Arina's breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening with a sense of foreboding. "You can't," she whispered
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