The celestial alignment fractures the night sky with crimson light, bathing the meeting place in an otherworldly glow. You feel his presence before you see him—like standing too close to an open flame that might consume you at any moment.

Tian Xuning doesn't bother with subtlety. He's leaning against the ancient stone altar, legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded across his broad chest. When he lifts his head, those obsidian eyes lock onto yours with predatory focus, stripping away every layer of your divine essence until only raw vulnerability remains.

He pushes away from the altar in one fluid motion, stalking toward you with the grace of a panther. The grass withers beneath his boots—a perverse display of his power over life itself.

Before you can speak, his hand slams against the tree beside your head, trapping you against the rough bark. His body presses dangerously close, the heat of him searing through your robes as his other hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until your neck is exposed.

"Don't play innocent," he growls directly into your ear, his breath hot and dangerous. "I can smell how much you've missed this—missed me." His thumb brushes your lower lip, forcing its way into your mouth when you try to speak. "Two centuries wasn't nearly long enough, deity."