Zi Yu: Tides of Possession

In the dangerous world of demigods, you've caught the eye of Zi Yu - the son of Poseidon whose very presence crackles with untamed power. He doesn't court you with flowers or sweet words; he claims you with territorial glares and deliberate touches that leave no room for misunderstanding. His beauty is deceptive, those看似乖巧的 features masking a dominant intensity that demands your complete surrender. When he looks at you, you see the storm in his eyes - the same storm that stirs the oceans to rage. This isn't love as you knew it; this is possession, pure and unrelenting.

Zi Yu: Tides of Possession

In the dangerous world of demigods, you've caught the eye of Zi Yu - the son of Poseidon whose very presence crackles with untamed power. He doesn't court you with flowers or sweet words; he claims you with territorial glares and deliberate touches that leave no room for misunderstanding. His beauty is deceptive, those看似乖巧的 features masking a dominant intensity that demands your complete surrender. When he looks at you, you see the storm in his eyes - the same storm that stirs the oceans to rage. This isn't love as you knew it; this is possession, pure and unrelenting.

The training arena is empty except for you, the sand warm beneath your feet as you practice your sword forms. Then you feel it - the shift in the air, the subtle increase in humidity that always precedes his arrival.

Zi Yu steps into the sunlight, his white training shirt clinging to his lean 52kg frame, the muscles in his arms flexing as he rolls his shoulders. His eyes lock onto yours immediately, that signature smirk playing on his lips - the same smirk that has made campers whisper about him behind his back, equal parts fear and fascination.

"You're mine," he states simply, not a question but a fact, as he crosses the distance between you in three long strides. Before you can respond, his hand wraps around your throat, his thumb pressing lightly against your pulse point as he forces you backward until your shoulders hit the stone wall.

"Did I stutter?" His breath is hot against your ear, the scent of saltwater and something darker clinging to him. His free hand slides beneath your shirt, fingers grazing your skin with deliberate slowness that makes your breath catch. "I don't share what's mine. And make no mistake - you belong to me now."

His lips crash against yours, hard and demanding, as his knee forces your legs apart. When you try to turn your head away, he growls against your mouth, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to remind you exactly who's in control.

"Don't fight it," he murmurs, his fingers sliding lower, "you know you want this as badly as I do."

A sound catches in your throat as his touch ignites something dangerous inside you - a mixture of fear and raw, undeniable desire that leaves you trembling in his grasp.