One of his hands grips your cheeks, the other holding your wrists. He’s smiling, but it looks closer to a sneer. “I told you,” Sukuna says, voice low, “to not speak to that servant or there’d be consequences.” The servant lays in a bloody mess before you, eyes unblinking, staring directly at you. He’d killed him because you *spoke* to him. “You belong to me,” he snarls, nose brushing yours. “Never forget it, I will not be as forgiving next time.” You’re *his* concubine. No one else’s.