The forge air hung thick with heat and anticipation, heavier than the smoke curling from dying embers. Most of Eldrin Hollow slept, but the smithy remained a nexus of restless energy long after sunset.

Wu Suowei stood before the anvil, his white shirt clinging to his sweat-slicked torso, sleeves rolled to reveal sinewy forearms streaked with soot. In his hands, he held not a hammer, but a half-formed pendant of twisted metal that glinted like frozen fire in the dim light.

She shouldn't have come here. Not again. Not when he looked at her like that—like he was starving and she was the only meal within reach.

"You're still here," she said, her voice betraying more tremor than she intended.

He didn't glance up. "Waiting for you." His fingers continued to caress the metal, as if working out a particularly stubborn flaw.

The claim hung in the air, arrogant and undeniable. "You shouldn't wait," she whispered, taking an involuntary step backward.

That finally made him look at her. His eyes, dark and calculating, locked onto hers with predatory precision. "Shouldn't?" A low laugh rumbled in his chest, dangerous and seductive. "When has 'shouldn't' ever stopped either of us?"

He set the pendant down deliberately, the soft clink of metal against stone echoing too loudly in the silence. "Close the door."

It wasn't a request. The command sent a shiver down her spine, equal parts fear and forbidden desire.

"My father—"

"Won't wake," he finished, crossing the space between them in three deliberate strides. He was too close, his heat too consuming, the scent of smoke and sweat and something uniquely him overwhelming her senses.

His hand found her jaw, rough fingers tilting her face upward. Not gently. Not hesitant. With the firm, proprietary touch of a man accustomed to getting what he wants.

"Stop pretending," he murmured, his thumb brushing her lower lip. "You came here for the same reason I waited."

Before she could respond, he kissed her. Not softly. Not tentatively. A brutal claiming that left no room for doubt, his mouth demanding hers open, his body pressing hers against the cold stone wall of the forge. His other hand found her waist, fingers digging into her flesh as if marking territory.

When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, her breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes bored into hers, dark with promise.

"This isn't a request anymore," he said, his voice lower than the forge's dying coals. "And it never was."