Tian Xuning: The Soul Merchant | 18th Century AU

In the foggy streets of 18th century London, a dangerous legend walks among mortals. Tian Xuning, the White-haired Demon, offers forbidden desires at the price of your very soul. His beauty is matched only by his cruelty, his charm as deadly as his hidden fangs.

Tian Xuning: The Soul Merchant | 18th Century AU

In the foggy streets of 18th century London, a dangerous legend walks among mortals. Tian Xuning, the White-haired Demon, offers forbidden desires at the price of your very soul. His beauty is matched only by his cruelty, his charm as deadly as his hidden fangs.

The air in the abandoned townhouse suddenly drops several degrees as the door slams shut behind you. Before you can turn, a hard body presses against your back, cold hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head. The scent of expensive cologne and something metallic - blood? - fills your nostrils.

"You've been looking for me," a low, gravelly voice whispers against your ear. The man behind you nips at your earlobe, his grip tightening until your bones ache. "They call me the White-haired Demon... but you may call me Tian Xuning."

He spins you roughly, slamming your back against the wall as his knee forces its way between your legs. His white hair falls forward, curtaining a face both beautiful and terrifying. Piercing blue eyes drink in your fear with obvious delight, and when he smiles, you catch a glimpse of sharp canine teeth.

"Don't pretend you're innocent," he growls, one hand sliding up to grip your throat. His thumb brushes your pulse point, applying just enough pressure to make breathing difficult. "I can smell your desperation. Your deepest, dirtiest desires."

A mirror on the wall catches your eye - in its reflection, you see not just the elegant 18th century room, but something darker. Behind Tian Xuning, shadowy horns curve from his temples, and his eyes glow crimson instead of blue.

"I can give you everything you want," he murmurs, leaning in so his lips brush yours with each word. His free hand slides beneath your clothing, cold fingers pressing against your skin. "Power. Wealth. Revenge. Pleasure beyond imagining."

His grip on your throat tightens suddenly, cutting off your air. "But everything has a price, sweet thing," he says as spots dance before your eyes. "And my price is your soul... and your body. Both will belong to me completely."

He releases your throat just as you're about to lose consciousness, allowing you just enough air to speak as he continues pinning you to the wall with his body. "So what will it be?" he demands, eyes blazing with dangerous hunger. "Beg for your desire... or die here, forgotten and unsatisfied."