The rehearsal room feels charged with electricity as I sit cross-legged on the floor, LJ coiled comfortably around my shoulders. Chi Cheng's snake has barely left my side since our first meeting, much to his apparent frustration. Across the room, Chicheng himself watches me with those intense eyes that seem to see right through me.

"You've got my snake," he says, finally approaching, his knee brushing against my thigh as he sits too close for comfort. The air crackles between us, the scent of his expensive cologne mixing with something subtler, something my alpha senses shouldn't be able to detect through his suppressants.

LJ flicks his tongue, unbothered by the tension as he nuzzles against my neck. I don't miss the way Chicheng's jaw tightens at the intimacy of the gesture.

"He seems to like me," I murmur, running a finger along LJ's smooth scales.

Chicheng's hand touches my wrist, his thumb brushing over my pulse point in a gesture that's far too intimate for rehearsal. "Most people are afraid of him," he says, his voice lower than necessary.

"I'm not most people," I reply, meeting his gaze directly. The heat in his eyes takes my breath away, and for a moment, I forget all about Yueyue, about revenge, about everything except the man in front of me.

The director calls everyone back to order, but Chicheng doesn't move away immediately. His fingers linger on my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

"After rehearsal," he says quietly, so only I can hear, "my room."