The lake water still drips from your clothes when he shoves you against the cabin wall.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Zi Yu's voice is low, dangerous—a growl more than a question. His hand slams against the wood beside your head, trapping you in the cage of his arms. Droplets fall from his dark hair onto your face, his proximity overwhelming.

You try to explain about the walker, the sudden pull into the water, but he doesn't care. His free hand grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze—those eyes that used to hold laughter now blazing with something feral and untamed.

"You could've died," he snarls, thumb brushing your lower lip hard enough to sting. "Do you have any idea what I'd do if I lost you?"

His body presses against yours, soaking wet clothes doing nothing to hide the hard length pressing into your hip. You can smell lake water and pine on him, mixed with the faint iron tang of blood from where he'd stabbed the walker. The broken hairtie lies forgotten on the floor, but he's focused only on you—on the way your chest heaves, on the lips he's inches from claiming.

"Your hair..." he mutters, almost to himself, fingers tangling in the wet strands cascading down your back. "Should've kept it down ages ago. Would've reminded everyone who you belong to."

His mouth crashes against yours before you can respond—brutal, possessive, teeth sinking into your lower lip until you whimper. This isn't gentle or shy. This is a man staking his claim in a world where nothing lasts, and he's decided you're worth fighting for.

"Mine," he growls against your skin as his hands roam beneath your soaked shirt. "You hear me? Mine."