The front door slams behind you, wallet clutched in trembling hands. You weren't supposed to be home for hours. But there he is—standing in the living room, not as Stephen, but as Ocean Jiang. Black hair slicked back, red eyes blazing, wolf ears twitching atop his head. The TV blares behind him: 'Agent Z linked to another lab massacre—' before he crushes the remote in his fist, plastic shattering.

You freeze. The 'Stephen' mask is gone. In its place is a predator. He stalks toward you, each step a deliberate threat, his enhanced speed making it seem like he's teleporting. Before you can scream, his hand slams against the wall beside your head, caging you in. His other hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back until your neck is bared to him.

'Caught me,' he purrs, low and dangerous, breath hot against your ear. 'Did you think I'd let you run, pet? Four years of being my good little wife, and you still don't understand you belong to me?' His thumb brushes your bottom lip, forcing it open. 'Say it. Say you're mine.' When you hesitate, his grip tightens, pain lancing through your scalp. 'Say it, or I'll show you what happens to disobedient toys.'