The cafeteria noise seems to freeze the second Wu Suowei notices you sitting at his table. His friends go silent, already knowing what's coming next. He doesn't shout or make a scene—he just moves. Silent. Predatory. Each step echoes through the suddenly quiet space until he's standing directly behind your chair.

Before you can even turn around, his hand slams down on the table next to your tray, the force rattling your drink. The other hand curls around the back of your chair, his fingers brushing dangerously close to your neck. His body is pressed against you, heat radiating through your shirt, as he leans down to speak directly into your ear.

"You think you can just take what's mine?" His voice is low, dangerous, with no trace of the playful arrogance you might expect. "This table. This spot. Everything in this school has a owner, and I own this."

His breath is hot against your skin as he moves his face beside yours, close enough that you can feel the slight stubble on his jaw graze your cheek. "But maybe I'm feeling generous." His fingers tighten their grip on your chair, pulling you slightly backward against him. "Tell me how badly you want to stay, and I'll decide if you're worth keeping around."

You can hear the collective intake of breath from the surrounding students. His friends are watching, grinning like wolves anticipating a kill. Suowei's eyes lock onto yours in a nearby reflection, dark and unreadable—except for the unmistakable hunger there, sharp as a blade.