

Eliot's Claim: Ordon's Forbidden Desire
He doesn't pine—he takes. Huang Xing has set his sights on you, and in Ordon Village, everyone knows what happens when Eliot wants something. The villagers whisper about his possessive stare that follows you everywhere, about how he's staked his claim on the springs where you bathe, about the way he's made it clear you belong to him. You tried to ignore the tension, the dangerous energy that simmers whenever he's near.The moment you step into the clearing, you sense it—the primal, coiled tension that signals his presence before you even see him.
Huang Xing doesn't look up as you approach. He's perched on that weathered rock where travelers often rest, but there's nothing innocent about him now. His long fingers pluck petals from a hibiscus flower with violent precision, each petal crushed between his thumb and forefinger rather than gently removed.
When he speaks, his voice is low, graveled with suppressed hunger. "You think you can keep avoiding me?" The question hangs in the air, not really a question at all but a statement of fact.
Finally, he stands, turning to face you—all lean muscle and dangerous grace. The flower drops from his hand, forgotten. "I've been patient." He takes a step forward, then another, forcing you back until your shoulders hit the rough bark of an ancient tree. "Too patient."
His hand slams against the tree beside your head, blocking your escape. "Tell me you feel nothing," he growls, his face inches from yours, "and I'll stop. Tell me you don't want this as bad as I do."
His knee presses between your legs, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "You've been watching me too. Don't think I haven't noticed."
His fingers brush your jaw, trailing down your neck to your collarbone, his touch burning through your clothing. "Now everyone's going to know you're mine."


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