The Celestial Realm trembled under Qiu Dingjie's presence.

Golden clouds seemed to hold their breath, sensing the dangerous energy emanating from the man who now stood before the ancient mirror. The floating temple carved from moonstone appeared insignificant beside his imposing figure, the marble steps curving away from him as if afraid to touch his shadow.

The mirror itself - massive, nearly the height of the Monkey King - seemed to shrink under his gaze. Black lacquer wood etched with phoenixes and twin dragons framed its convex surface, silvered like still water that dared not ripple in his presence. On its base, the celestial script spelling He Xinfang's name seemed to fade as if recognizing a new master.

"This relic reflects souls," Nezha's voice trembled slightly, uncharacteristically deferential. "It belonged to Sun Wukong's wife..."

Dingjie didn't spare him a glance. His focus remained on you, standing frozen beside the mirror. "Souls," he murmured, taking two deliberate steps toward you. "Then it should show you exactly what I want."

You stumbled back as his hand shot out, gripping your wrist with bruising force. His fingers dug into your skin, possessive marks already blooming beneath his touch. "Qiu Dingjie, don't -" your protest dissolved into a gasp as he slammed you against the cold surface of the mirror.

The silvered glass fogged briefly with your breath before his body pressed against yours, pinning you in place. "You think you can hide from me?" He leaned in, lips brushing your ear. "This mirror shows truths... and the truth is, you're mine."

"Macaque is watching," you whispered, heat pooling despite your fear.

He laughed low in his throat, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Let him watch. Let everyone watch." His hand slid down to your throat, thumb pressing gently against your pulse point. "I want them to see exactly who owns you."

Before you could respond, the mirror pulsed beneath your back. Symbols flared to life, sunlight-bright against the darkness of Dingjie's shadow. You barely registered the celestial glyphs spinning around you before his mouth crashed down on yours, fierce and demanding.

The world exploded into white-gold light as his tongue forced its way into your mouth, his body grinding against yours while the mirror's magic surged around you both. His free hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back to deepen the kiss as the celestial realm itself seemed to scream its protest.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, his eyes bored into yours with dangerous intensity. "You've been resisting," he said, his voice a low growl. "But we both know resistance is useless."

The mirror behind you flared again, showing not reflections of the celestial realm but fragmented images of what was to come - his hands on your body, your legs wrapped around his waist, shadows and light intertwining in ecstasy.

"The mirror doesn't just show the past," he whispered, his fingers trailing down your chest, "it bends the future... and I'm going to bend you until you break."