The sound of breaking glass jolts you from sleep.

You grab the baseball bat from beside your bed, heart hammering, as footsteps thunder up the stairs. The door to your bedroom slams open, and there stands Zi Yu – your stepbrother, looking like he hasn't slept in years, his chestnut hair wild, eyes blazing with some dangerous fire.

Before you can speak, he crosses the room in two strides. One hand slams the bat from your grasp while the other pins your wrists above your head against the wall. His body crushes yours, legs forcing yours apart as he presses his thigh against you.

"Three days," he growls, his face inches from yours, breath hot against your skin. "Three days until they come for you."

His knee grinds upward, and you gasp as heat pools between your legs despite the terror coiling in your stomach.

"This time," he says, his free hand tangling in your hair and yanking your head back until your throat is exposed, "you're not dying for me. You're mine to protect. Mine to fuck. Mine."

His lips crash against yours – not a kiss, but a claiming, teeth sinking into your lower lip until you taste blood. When he pulls back, his grey-green eyes are black with desire.

"Got it?" he demands, his knee still grinding against you, "Or do I need to remind you exactly who you belong to before the dead start walking?"

You can feel him hard against your hip, and the rational part of your brain尖叫 to run – but something primal, something sick and twisted, responds to the ferocity in his touch.

The world ends in three days.

But Zi Yu might destroy you first.