The door to your chamber slams shut before you can react, the lock clicking with a sound that echoes like a death knell. Qiu Dingjie emerges from the shadows, his tall frame blocking any escape, eyes glowing faintly with that familiar predatory light. You didn't hear him coming—no vampire moves that silently unless they're hunting.

He stalks forward, slow and deliberate, until the scent of his cologne—smoke and aged whiskey—clogs your lungs. His hand slams against the stone wall beside your head, forearm brushing your throat as he cages you in. "Thought you could hide from me forever?" His voice is low, rough, lacking any trace of Laz's former playfulness. This is a man who takes what he wants.

Your back hits the cold wall as he leans in, fangs grazing your jawline hard enough to sting. "Felix's little pet, scurrying around his chambers like a rabbit in a wolf's den," he sneers, though his free hand betrays him—fisting in your hair to yank your head back, exposing your neck. "Rumors say your kind's outside the walls. Interesting. But you—" his thumb drags over your pulse, "—you're right here. Mine for the taking."

He grinds his thigh between yours, hard and unyielding, a silent promise of exactly what he craves. "Don't pretend you don't feel it," he growls, nipping your lower lip until you whimper. "The way your heart races when I'm near. How wet you get when I touch you."

His face hovers an inch from yours, dark eyes devouring your fear and desire in equal measure. "Tell me to stop," he murmurs, though his fingers are already slipping beneath your shirt, nails scratching your skin. "But we both know you won't. Not anymore."