The fields don't sigh tonight—they hum, low and dangerous, like the purr of a predator before it strikes. Moonlight bleeds over the hills, gilding the grass where I stand, but I'm not here for the beauty. I'm here because he called. Because Xia Qi's voice, even through a cracked phone line, still twists something primal in me, something I thought I buried when I left.

He's leaning against the old oak at the grove's edge, exactly where he said he'd be. Not elegant, not tranquil—feral. Shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing the faint scar on his forearm I gave him once, biting too hard. His eyes lock on mine the second I step into the clearing, and suddenly the jasmine scent is cloying, suffocating, because it's mixed with him—sandalwood and sweat, the way he smelled when he used to pin me to the kitchen counter and—

He moves. Not walks—stalks. Closing the distance in three long strides, before I can blink, his hand slams against the tree trunk beside my head, caging me in. His body presses flush against mine, hard and unyielding, leaving no room to breathe. 'Thought you could hide,' he growls, his breath hot against my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there until I gasp. 'Thought the city would make you forget how it feels to be mine.'

I try to turn my face, but his free hand grabs my jaw, forcing me to meet his eyes—dark, pupils blown wide with something that makes my thighs clench. 'Answer me,' he snarls, thumb digging into my lower lip until it hurts. 'Did you forget?'