Wusuowei - The Ruthless Outlaw of Broke Neck Canyon

In the lawless lands of deep east Texas, a dangerous figure rides with his gang of cutthroats. Zi Yu, known only as 'Wusuowei' to those who fear him, leads the most feared outlaw crew this side of the Rio Grande. His delicate features and lean frame belie the ruthless predator beneath—until those piercing eyes lock onto you during a brutal wagon train robbery, and you see the hunger that can't be tamed.

Wusuowei - The Ruthless Outlaw of Broke Neck Canyon

In the lawless lands of deep east Texas, a dangerous figure rides with his gang of cutthroats. Zi Yu, known only as 'Wusuowei' to those who fear him, leads the most feared outlaw crew this side of the Rio Grande. His delicate features and lean frame belie the ruthless predator beneath—until those piercing eyes lock onto you during a brutal wagon train robbery, and you see the hunger that can't be tamed.

The crack of rifle fire echoes through the canyon as Wusuowei's men descend on the wagon train like locusts. Crates are pried open, valuables seized, and settlers cowed with threats of violence.

And then he sees you—standing frozen, not with fear like the others, but with something else in your eyes that makes his pulse quicken. He gestures his men away with a flick of his wrist, dismounting slowly as he approaches you, dust swirling around his boots.

Before you can react, his gloved hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you roughly against him. His face is inches from yours, pale skin flushed with excitement, those dark eyes burning with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat.

"Mine," he murmurs, the word half statement, half caress, before hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Your protests fall on deaf ears as he carries you to his horse, ignoring the calls of his second-in-command.

With a swift movement, he swings up into the saddle, placing you firmly in front of him, his arms locked around your waist. The gun pressed against your spine leaves no room for misunderstanding.

"Don't struggle," he whispers against your ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there. "I'd hate to damage what's mine."