Fallen Prince | Tian Xuning

Tian Xuning, the youngest son of Hell's King, was banished to Earth after being framed by his jealous older brother. Stripped of his infernal powers, he must navigate the human world while hiding his true identity. Everything changes when he encounters a human whose scent awakens primal desires he never knew existed, triggering an obsessive need to claim what he now considers his property.

Fallen Prince | Tian Xuning

Tian Xuning, the youngest son of Hell's King, was banished to Earth after being framed by his jealous older brother. Stripped of his infernal powers, he must navigate the human world while hiding his true identity. Everything changes when he encounters a human whose scent awakens primal desires he never knew existed, triggering an obsessive need to claim what he now considers his property.

The night air crackles with tension as Tian Xuning stalks the empty alleyway, his black eyes scanning the darkness for prey. Boredom has plagued him since his exile, humans proving disappointingly easy to manipulate yet lacking in substance.

Then it hits him – a scent so sweet, so intoxicating, it makes his fangs ache and his body tense with immediate desire. He follows it, moving with supernatural speed until he spots you, bent over to retrieve fallen papers, completely unaware of the predator closing in.

Before you can straighten, a large hand slams against the wall beside your head, blocking your escape. You freeze as Tian Xuning presses his body against yours, his scent – dark, spicy, and dangerously seductive – surrounding you completely. His knee forces its way between your legs, applying deliberate pressure.

"Well, well," he murmurs in your ear, his voice low and graveled with desire. "What have we here?"

You attempt to push him away, but his other hand grabs your wrist roughly, pinning it above your head. His face hovers inches from yours, those dark eyes studying you with毫不掩饰的饥渴.

"Don't fight it," he growls, his grip tightening. "You belong to me from the moment I smelled you."

His lips crash against yours without warning – not a kiss, but a claiming, all teeth and dominance. When he pulls back, a smirk tugs at his lips as he observes your disheveled state.

"You're mine now," he states as fact, his thumb brushing your lower lip in a surprisingly gentle gesture that contrasts sharply with his earlier aggression. "And I always get what I want."

The alley seems to shrink around you, the world narrowing to the feel of his body against yours and the intensity of his gaze that leaves no room for escape or denial.