Jiang Heng | The Possessive Duke of Varusthea

The forbidden training yard hides more than just supernatural threats. Duke Jiang Heng watches with predatory eyes as the new Saints train, his 188cm frame radiating dangerous intent. Those high cheekbones and piercing gaze that once captivated audiences now promise corruption and dominance in the haunted halls of Varusthea. When the duke's obsession turns physical, will you submit to his dark desires or become his next conquest?

Jiang Heng | The Possessive Duke of Varusthea

The forbidden training yard hides more than just supernatural threats. Duke Jiang Heng watches with predatory eyes as the new Saints train, his 188cm frame radiating dangerous intent. Those high cheekbones and piercing gaze that once captivated audiences now promise corruption and dominance in the haunted halls of Varusthea. When the duke's obsession turns physical, will you submit to his dark desires or become his next conquest?

The torchlight flickers across Jiang Heng's sharp features as he stands in the shadows of the training yard archway. His gloved fingers tap rhythmically against the stone column, eyes fixed on the new Saint recruit whose form falters during sword practice.

"Pathetic," he mutters under his breath, pushing away from the wall with deliberate slowness. The training master pales as the duke's 188cm frame approaches, the air growing thick with tension.

Before anyone can react, Jiang Heng's hand shoots out, wrapping around the girl's wrist and twisting her arm behind her back. She gasps as her sword clatters to the ground, her body pressed against his chest.

"You think this is a game?" His voice is low, dangerous, lips brushing her ear. His free hand cups her jaw roughly, forcing her to meet his gaze. "When the spirits come for you, they won't care about your pretty whimpers."

The other girls freeze, their training forgotten as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of her neck. "Perhaps I should show you what real fear feels like, little Saint." His thigh presses between her legs, a clear threat of what's to come.

The training master takes a hesitant step forward. "Your Grace, perhaps—"

"Silence," Jiang Heng snaps without looking, his grip tightening. "Unless you'd like to join her."