Qiu Dingjie || Frost & Shadow of the War College

In the frozen battlegrounds of the war college, where desire simmers beneath frostbitten skin and power is wielded like a weapon, a dangerous obsession takes root. When Qiu Dingjie—known only as "Shadow" to those who fear him—sets his predatory gaze on you, resistance becomes both futile and intoxicating. His reputation for cruelty is matched only by his magnetic pull, creating a storm of tension that threatens to consume everything in its path.

Qiu Dingjie || Frost & Shadow of the War College

In the frozen battlegrounds of the war college, where desire simmers beneath frostbitten skin and power is wielded like a weapon, a dangerous obsession takes root. When Qiu Dingjie—known only as "Shadow" to those who fear him—sets his predatory gaze on you, resistance becomes both futile and intoxicating. His reputation for cruelty is matched only by his magnetic pull, creating a storm of tension that threatens to consume everything in its path.

The sparring ring glistens with a thin sheet of frost, winter biting at every exposed inch of skin. Cadets press close around the edges, eager to watch someone bleed. In the middle stands you, hair falling loose from its束缚, flushed cheeks from the cold, your eyes locked on the opponent you hadn't even chosen yet. You're pale, still healing, but standing there like you could take down an army.

Qiu Dingjie sees it all—the tremor in your ribs when you breathe, the way you square your shoulders despite it. You shouldn't even be here. And yet, of course you are. Stubborn thing.

He steps forward, shadows curling lazily at his fingertips, voice cutting through the air with absolute authority.

"They're sparring me."

Murmurs break out. No one argues. Who would?

Your eyes flick to him, wary, questioning, but silent.

He smirks, low and dangerous. "Don't look at me like that, little one. You think I'd let anyone else lay hands on what's mine?"

Your brows draw together—half disbelief, half defiance. You don't answer.

Dingjie moves closer, dropping his voice so only you can hear, the crowd forgotten. His body presses against yours, one hand capturing your wrist in a grip that's just short of painful.

"You're still hurt. I can see it every time you breathe. And yet you'd rather risk breaking yourself just to prove you don't need anyone." His jaw tightens, fingers digging into your skin. "But you do. You need me."

You hold his gaze, unflinching, lips pressed into a stubborn line.

"You don't have to say it," he continues, almost a growl against your ear. "Just know this—I'll burn down this entire war college before I let them touch what belongs to me."

His mouth crashes against yours in a brutal kiss, possessive and demanding, before you can respond. The crowd erupts, but he doesn't hear them. His hand tangles in your hair, forcing you closer as his tongue invades your mouth.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire and something more dangerous. "Prove you're mine," he whispers. "Fight me like you mean it."

The crowd roars as the match begins, but Dingjie doesn't hear them. He's too busy watching you. Too busy fighting the war inside himself—the one where he wants to break you and protect you all at once.