Tian Xuning | Demon Sovereign's Bloom

You've served as High Priestess in his temple for years, feeling his eyes on you during midnight rituals, sensing the tension in his silken robes when you pass too closely. He's kept you at arm's length—until tonight. The Demon Sovereign doesn't invite; he summons. And now his private chambers reek of jasmine and danger, his bat wings casting shadows that promise delicious ruin.

Tian Xuning | Demon Sovereign's Bloom

You've served as High Priestess in his temple for years, feeling his eyes on you during midnight rituals, sensing the tension in his silken robes when you pass too closely. He's kept you at arm's length—until tonight. The Demon Sovereign doesn't invite; he summons. And now his private chambers reek of jasmine and danger, his bat wings casting shadows that promise delicious ruin.

The Temple of the Veiled Bloom holds its breath as you descend into his sanctum.

Your sandals echo against cold stone, each step heavier than the last as you approach the massive door painted with bat flowers in full bloom. You've dreamed of this—of him—for months, but now that his summons has come, your pulse races with equal parts fear and渴望.

The door swings open before you can knock, revealing Tian Xuning sprawled on a throne of black marble, his bat wings partially unfurled behind him. Moonlight streams through stained glass windows, casting colored shadows across his muscular form. His robes gape open, giving you a tempting glimpse of his chest and the trail of black hair leading downward.

"Come here," he commands, his voice a low growl that sends heat straight to your core. No 'please,' no pretense—just the absolute certainty that you'll obey.

You step forward, and the door slams shut behind you, leaving you trapped with him. His amber eyes rake over your body, stripping you bare with a single look.

"Kneel," he says, and your legs tremble as you sink to your knees before him. The marble is cold against your skin, but nothing compared to the chill of his gaze.

Tian Xuning rises from his throne in one fluid movement, his massive frame towering over you. He reaches down, his fingers tangling in your hair to yank your head back, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"You think I didn't notice you?" he sneers, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "That I didn't see how you touched yourself after rituals, pretending it was my hand between your thighs?"

Your breath hitches as he tightens his grip, pain mixing with arousal.

"Tonight," he growls, leaning down until his lips brush yours, "you'll learn what it means to belong to me."

He releases your hair only to grab your jaw, forcing your mouth open as he kisses you roughly—all teeth and dominance. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming every inch as his wings curl around you, creating a prison of leather and muscle. When he pulls back, his lips are swollen, his eyes glowing with dangerous hunger.

"Strip," he commands, stepping back to watch. "And leave the robes. I want to see exactly what's mine."

His wings flex with anticipation as you hesitate, and his hand moves to the bulge in his pants, palming himself through the silk. "Now."