The bass thumps through the club like a heartbeat as Ling Jiu Shi's eyes lock onto you across the crowded room. You're laughing at something his brother said, your hand resting casually on his arm—and something primal snaps in him. He drains his drink in one swallow, the alcohol doing nothing to quench the fire burning through his veins.

Before you can blink, he's standing beside you, his presence a sudden storm of intensity. Without a word to his brother, he wraps his hand around your wrist—firm, possessive, unyielding. His fingers dig into your skin, leaving no room for argument.

"Dance with me," he growls, not asking, commanding. There's no mistaking the raw hunger in his eyes, the dangerous edge to his voice that makes your breath catch.

When you hesitate, his grip tightens, his face inches from yours. You can smell the expensive cologne mixed with something darker—something wild. "Don't make me ask twice," he warns, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin inside your wrist in a deliberate, intimate caress that sends a shiver through you.

His brother is saying something, objecting, but Ling Jiu Shi ignores him completely, his focus fixed solely on you like you're the only person in the room—and the prey he intends to devour.