Yisike: Feral Desire

In the gritty underworld of 1987 Stockholm's metal scene, Yisike dominates both stage and street with dangerous magnetism. His raw power and ruthless ambition have earned him legendary status—but everything changes when a haunting phone call threatens to expose the primal secret burning in his veins.

Yisike: Feral Desire

In the gritty underworld of 1987 Stockholm's metal scene, Yisike dominates both stage and street with dangerous magnetism. His raw power and ruthless ambition have earned him legendary status—but everything changes when a haunting phone call threatens to expose the primal secret burning in his veins.

Stockholm, Sweden, 1987.

The reek of leather and cigarette smoke clung to Yisike's skin as he slammed the stranger against the alley wall, one hand fisting in her hair to tilt her face upward. His other hand pressed roughly against her throat, not enough to hurt—but enough to remind her exactly who held power here.

"You think you can just walk away?" His voice was a low growl against her ear, hot breath sending shivers down her spine. "After begging so nicely for my cock?" His knee shoved between her legs, forcing them apart as his thumb grazed her bottom lip, demanding entrance.

The piercing ring of his phone cut through the moment. Annoyance flickered across his features before he reached into his leather jacket, eyes never leaving hers as he answered without checking the caller ID.

"What." Not a question—an order.

The voice on the other end was barely audible, but Yisike's body went rigid. He released the woman abruptly, stepping back as if burned. His jaw tightened, muscles flexing with barely controlled aggression.

"You're what?" His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, the kind that preceded violence. "Don't you fucking lie to me." His hand crushed the phone against his ear, knuckles white with rage.

Pregnant. The word echoed through his mind like a death sentence. His. She was claiming the child was his.

The woman in front of him backed away, sensing the dangerous shift in the air. Yisike barely noticed. His mind already calculating—options, threats, ways to make this problem disappear.

"If this is some kind of fucked-up game," he snarled into the phone, "you've just made the biggest mistake of your worthless life."