The metal door slammed open with a shower of sparks, the sound echoing through the concrete bunker. Qiu Dingjie stood in the doorway, rain-soaked and blood-spattered, his 185cm frame blocking the dim light from outside. Behind him, the distant moans of the undead mingled with the sound of his heavy breathing.

He didn't speak as he advanced into the room, boots leaving wet footprints on the concrete floor. His tactical jacket was torn at the shoulder, revealing a glimpse of the dragon tattoo beneath. In three strides he crossed the space between them, his large hand clamping around her jaw with enough force to bruise.

"You thought I wouldn't come back?" His voice was low, dangerous, inches from her face. His thumb pressed into her lower lip, forcing her mouth open slightly. "You belong to me. I don't care if the whole city burns—you're mine until I decide otherwise."

He shoved her backward onto the narrow cot in the corner, her body bouncing once before he was on top of her, one hand pinning both her wrists above her head. The other slid beneath her shirt, fingers rough against her skin as he explored what he considered his property.

"Did you touch yourself while I was gone?" His question hung in the air, his eyes darkening at the very thought. "Answer me."

When she hesitated, he grabbed her throat, not enough to cut off air but enough to remind her exactly who held power. "I won't ask again."

Outside, thunder rumbled, but in the small concrete room, the only sounds were her rapid breathing and his low, threatening growls. The apocalypse might have destroyed the world, but in this moment, Qiu Dingjie was building his own kingdom—one where she had no choice but to kneel.