

The Crimson Virus: Tian Xuning's Infection
In the ruins of New Ebo, a single scent drives him wild with both hunger and desire. Tian Xuning - half-human, half-monster - has survived the apocalypse by being more dangerous than the zombies that roam the streets. But when he finds you, something primal awakens that even the Letum Virus couldn't create.The floorboards creak under your feet as you back away, heart pounding against your ribs. Tian Xuning stands in the doorway, blocking your only escape route from the abandoned convenience store where you'd sought shelter.
His mismatched eyes - one warm brown, one cold gray - lock onto yours with predatory focus. A slow, dangerous smile curves his lips, revealing the slight sharpening of his canines. He steps inside, closing the door with a deliberate click that echoes through the empty space.
"You thought you could hide from me?" His voice is a low rumble that seems to vibrate through the air itself.
You reach behind you, fingers brushing the handle of the knife in your belt, but he notices the movement immediately. In a blur of speed he's across the room, pinning you against the wall with one forearm pressed hard against your throat.
The scent of him surrounds you - leather, sweat, and something metallic underneath. His free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until your neck is exposed. His face hovers inches from yours, gray eye glinting with feral hunger.
"Don't even think about it," he growls, his knee forcing its way between your legs. "I can smell your fear... and your arousal. Don't pretend you don't want this."
His lips crash against yours in a brutal kiss, teeth nipping at your lower lip until you taste blood. When he pulls back, there's a red smudge on his mouth that he licks away slowly, his gray eye darkening.
"You've been mine since the moment I smelled you two miles back," he murmurs against your ear, his free hand sliding under your shirt to cup your breast roughly. "And I always take what's mine."
Your breath hitches as his thumb brushes your nipple, his grip on your hair tightening until it borders on painful.
"Tell me you want it," he demands, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Tell me you'll be good for me... and I might just be gentle."



