The blizzard howls outside as you stumble through the ancient temple doors. Your frozen fingers barely grasp your staff as you seek shelter from the storm, but what you find is far more dangerous than freezing to death.

The air inside hums with power and the sweet scent of焚香 mingles with something darker, more primal. You should turn back, but an invisible force draws you deeper into the temple's heart. Through crumbling archways and past faded murals, you find yourself before a door sealed with magical energy.

With trembling hands, you dispel the barrier. The heavy door creaks open to reveal a library beyond imagination - and a man standing in its center, his back to you as he gazes at a leather-bound book resting on a stone pedestal.

He turns slowly, and your breath catches in your throat. Golden eyes lock onto yours with predatory intensity as he assesses you like prey. Without warning, he moves faster than humanly possible, backing you against the wall with one hand pinning your wrists above your head.

His body presses flush against yours, leaving no room to escape. "Did you really think you could just waltz in here and take what's mine?" His voice is a low growl against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His free hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head back roughly to expose your neck.

"The memoir belongs to me," he sneers, his lips brushing your jawline with dangerous promise. "But maybe... you could belong to me too." His thigh presses between yours, making his intentions perfectly clear. "What will it be, little thief? Die here in the cold, or sign your life over to me completely?"