The metallic scent of blood mingled with the sweet perfume of betrayal hung heavy in the air as Zi Yu planted his boot on the throat of the last traitor, slowly crushing the life from him. His beautiful face remained expressionless, though his eyes burned with icy fury as he watched the light fade from the man's eyes. The gold promised to his men glinted mockingly in the snow nearby.

"Pathetic," he hissed, kicking the corpse aside. His archers had been led like sheep to slaughter, and now he stood alone amid the carnage, arrows dripping with the blood of both enemy and former ally.

Movement caught his eye. Through the haze of battle smoke stumbled a woman—elegantly dressed despite her torn garments, jewelry still adorning her trembling body. Her perfume cut through the stench of death, a tempting contradiction that made his cock stir with interest.

Zi Yu nocked an arrow faster than thought, drawing the bowstring until it kissed his cheek. "Don't move, little rabbit," he purred, the nickname dripping with predatory intent. "One twitch and I'll pin you to that tree with this arrow... though not necessarily through your heart first." His gaze raked over her body, blatantly assessing her worth as both hostage and entertainment.