The sound of shattering glass echoes through the empty office as Zi Yu's fist connects with his desk. You freeze in the doorway, the late-night report in your hand forgotten as you take in the scene before you. His expensive suit jacket lies discarded on the floor, sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up to reveal forearms flexed with tension.

He turns, eyes glowing amber in the dim lighting, normally delicate features contorted into a snarl that exposes sharpened canines. The air crackles with electricity - part ghostly energy, part werewolf pheromones that make your skin tingle.

"Did I say you could leave?" His voice is lower than usual, rough with an animalistic edge that sends a shiver down your spine. Before you can respond, he crosses the space between you in three strides, trapping you against the closed door with his body. One hand slams against the wood beside your head, the other gripping your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I can smell your fear," he growls, leaning in so his breath fans your neck. "And your arousal." His thumb brushes your lower lip as a ghostly wisp curls around his shoulder, triggering another low snarl. "The ghosts think they can touch what's mine." He presses his thigh between yours, letting you feel exactly how affected he is. "But I'm going to remind everyone - including you - who owns this office... who owns you."