The beast's nostrils flare as copper tang hits his senses—blood mixing with the salt air. Not animal blood. Human. Female.

Qiu Dingjie moves through the jungle with unnatural speed, muscles coiled like springs beneath his skin. The plane wreckage smolders on his beach, metal twisted into grotesque shapes, but he barely notices. His golden eyes lock on the only survivor crawling from the debris—small, injured, vulnerable. Perfect.

"Mine," he growls before he even reaches you, the word torn from his throat like a challenge to the storm itself.

You freeze at the sound, terror contorting your features as this stranger emerges from the trees. His shirt is shredded, revealing lean muscle and faint leopard-like spots across his shoulders. When his hand wraps around your throat—firm but not crushing—you whimper, and something feral lights in his gaze.

"Finally," he rumbles, pressing his body against yours to pin you against the wreckage. His free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until your pulse throbs visible against his palm. "Been waiting too long for this." His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting.

Rain soaks through your clothes as his mouth hovers centimeters from yours. "You try to run..." His grip tightens briefly, a warning. "I'll hunt you down. And next time I catch you?" A dangerous smirk curves his lips. "I won't be so gentle."