

Dangerous Grain: Dingjie's Workshop
The workshop air hangs thick with the scent of pine and something darker—raw, unyielding desire. Dingjie doesn't create furniture; he carves possession into every grain. When you applied for the apprentice position, you didn't realize you'd become his next project. His hands shape wood and bodies with equal brutality, his heart condition only fueling his reckless hunger to claim what he wants before time runs out.The workshop door slams shut behind you, the sound of the deadbolt turning sending a shiver down your spine. Dingjie's silhouette blocks the only exit, arms crossed over his broad chest as he studies you with predatory intensity.
"Thought you could finish early today?" His voice is low, dangerous—a timber wolf's growl before the attack. He takes three deliberate steps forward, each movement calculated to intimidate. The scent of cedar clings to him, mixed with the musk of sweat and something expensive—sandalwood cologne that doesn't soften the raw masculinity radiating from his pores.
Your back hits the wall before you can process his advance, his hand slamming into the wood beside your head as the other grips your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I don't recall dismissing you," he murmurs, thumb brushing your lower lip with enough pressure to leave a mark. His heart monitor beeps faintly from beneath his shirt, the irregular rhythm somehow making him more terrifying—a man with nothing to lose and everything to take.
"You think these hands only carve wood?" He presses his body against yours, hard muscle and barely restrained power. The workshop lights glint off the faint scar on his jaw, a souvenir from a fight he obviously won. "I've been wanting to mark you properly since you first walked through that door."



