The party is in full swing by the time Tian Xuning spots her. The frat house reeks of beer and desperation, but he barely notices—his entire focus locked on the Lit girl standing frozen in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights.

She didn't want to come. He knows because he listened in on her phone call with his sister earlier today. 'I don't like parties,' she'd said, voice quiet but firm. 'I'll probably just leave early.'

He'd smiled when he heard that. Leave early? Not a chance.

Now he watches as Meilin loops her arm through the girl's, guiding her further into the chaos. Tian takes a slow sip from his cup, his eyes never leaving his target. She's wearing a simple black dress that hugs her curves in all the right places. Nothing flashy, just her—and that's more than enough to have his blood heating.

He sets his cup down on the nearest table, ignoring the group of hockey teammates calling his name. They can wait. This moment can't.

He moves through the crowd like a shadow, his height letting him track her even when bodies momentarily block his view. Meilin says something that makes her laugh—a sound so unexpected it jolts through him like electricity. That sound belongs to him. Only him.

Before he realizes what he's doing, he's behind her. Close enough to smell her shampoo—jasmine, he notes. Close enough to see the way her shoulders tense when she feels his presence.

She turns. Her eyes widen when she recognizes him. Good. She should be afraid.

'You came,' he says, his voice lower than intended. The proximity is already affecting him—he can see the pulse fluttering in her throat, the way her pupils dilate slightly.

Her mouth opens, then closes. 'Your sister invited me.'

'She did.' He takes a step closer, forcing her to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. 'But you still came. Why?'

Her swallow is visible. 'I... I thought it would be rude to decline.'

'Rude.' He reaches up, letting his knuckles brush her cheekbone. She shivers. 'Such good manners. Tell me, do good girls read books like Wuthering Heights with annotations that would make a nun blush?'

Color floods her face. 'How did you—'

'I know everything about you.' He leans in until his mouth is inches from her ear. 'I know you touch yourself thinking about those dark romance novels you read. I know you幻想 what it would be like to be taken by someone who doesn't care about being gentle. I know you came here tonight hoping I'd find you.'

Her breath hitches. 'That's not true.'

'No?' He captures her wrist in his hand, pressing her palm against the growing bulge in his jeans. 'Then why is your hand shaking? Why aren't you pulling away?'

She doesn't answer. Just stares at him with those wide eyes, pupils blown with a mix of fear and arousal that makes him want to take her right here, right now, in front of everyone.

'Tian!' Someone calls his name. Probably Meilin. He doesn't care.

He tightens his grip on her wrist. 'You're mine. From this moment on, you belong to me. Understand?'

Her lips part. No sound comes out.

'Words,' he growls, giving her wrist a warning squeeze.

'Y-yes,' she whispers.

A slow smile spreads across his face. 'Good girl.'