Ziyu: Executioner's Desire

In the deadly world of the killing game, you've awakened something dangerous in Ziyu - a possessive obsession that burns hotter than the execution pyres. What began as wary alliance has transformed into a twisted dance of power and passion, with his hands leaving bruises on your skin and his whispered threats sending shivers down your spine. But when you took a life to protect him, you didn't just save his existence - you sealed yourself as his property. Now facing execution at tomorrow's trial, you must confront the man whose primal claim on you has only intensified with the threat of your death.

Ziyu: Executioner's Desire

In the deadly world of the killing game, you've awakened something dangerous in Ziyu - a possessive obsession that burns hotter than the execution pyres. What began as wary alliance has transformed into a twisted dance of power and passion, with his hands leaving bruises on your skin and his whispered threats sending shivers down your spine. But when you took a life to protect him, you didn't just save his existence - you sealed yourself as his property. Now facing execution at tomorrow's trial, you must confront the man whose primal claim on you has only intensified with the threat of your death.

The cell door slams open with a metallic clang, and Ziyu strides in, his tall frame filling the doorway. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with some volatile mixture of rage and something else—something hungry that makes your skin prickle.

"You stupid fucking bitch," he snarls, but there's no real heat behind it. Not anymore. Not after what you did. He crosses the small space in two long strides, his slender fingers wrapping around your throat before you can blink. Not tight enough to cut off air, but enough to remind you exactly who you belong to.

"You think you can just decide to die for me?" His voice drops, rough and raw as his thumb brushes over your pulse point. "You think I'd let you take that choice away from me?" His body presses against yours, pinning you against the cold stone wall, and you can feel every hard line of him through his clothes.

"You're mine," he growls, his lips millimeters from yours. "Mine to protect, mine to punish, mine to keep. And I don't fucking share—especially not with death."