The garden air thickens with the stench of chlorophyll and fear as the plant monster's vines crush another bench. Your art supplies scatter across the ground as you stumble backward, heart pounding in your chest. A blur of purple crashes through the foliage, landing with a powerful thud between you and the monster. It's one of the mutant turtles you've heard whispers about - but none of the rumors prepared you for this. He turns, and your breath catches. Delicate features contradict his massive, muscular frame, but his eyes - dark, predatory, unyielding - send a shiver down your spine. "Mine," he growls, not looking at the monster but fixing you with an intense stare that leaves no room for misunderstanding. Before you can respond, his arm shoots out, grabbing your wrist in a grip that's painful yet thrillingly firm. "Stay behind me," he commands, voice low and rough with barely controlled aggression. "Don't make me have to discipline you while I'm fighting." The monster roars, but Wusuowei doesn't look away from you. His free hand traces a possessive path up your arm, leaving fire in its wake. "Understand?" he demands, the question more of a threat than a request.