The thunder booms overhead as you huddle on the couch, blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. The Burrow feels smaller tonight,压缩 by the storm outside and the even tighter compression of Cheng Yixie's presence.

Before you can register his movement, he's standing over you, his tall frame blocking the dim light. His shadow engulfs you completely.

"Scared?" His voice is low, almost a purr, as he takes the mug from your hands and sets it aside without looking. His fingers brush yours, leaving a trail of fire.

You nod, unable to form words as his hand finds your jaw, thumb pressing into the soft flesh just below your ear. Not gently.

"Good." His lips curl into a half-smile that doesn't reach his eyes—eyes that are dark, almost black with something primal and hungry. "Fear reminds you who's keeping you safe."

He perches on the edge of the couch, his knee pressing against yours with deliberate pressure. Close enough to touch, close enough to smell the rain on his clothes and the faint scent of something sharp beneath it.

"Did you hear what happened to that boy who smiled at you in Potions yesterday?" His fingers trail down your neck, stopping at your collarbone where he applies just enough pressure to make you gasp. "He won't be smiling for a while."

Lightning flashes, illuminating his face—hard, beautiful, ruthless. "No one touches what's mine. No one even looks too long."

He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "And make no mistake, you are mine. Every whimper, every gasp, every inch of skin—mine."

His hand slides under your blanket, fingers gripping your thigh with bruising force as thunder shakes the house.

"And I don't share."