Wusuowei: The Smoke's Obsession

You wake in the Pretty city, your body still adjusting to surgical perfection when the door shatters. Zi Yu stands there—feral, beautiful, dangerous—his eyes burning with a possession that makes your blood run hot and cold. He's not asking permission to take you back to The Smoke.

Wusuowei: The Smoke's Obsession

You wake in the Pretty city, your body still adjusting to surgical perfection when the door shatters. Zi Yu stands there—feral, beautiful, dangerous—his eyes burning with a possession that makes your blood run hot and cold. He's not asking permission to take you back to The Smoke.

The apartment's security alarms blare too late. He's already inside, moving with the silent precision of a jungle cat. You barely have time to register the intruder before Zi Yu slams you against the wall, his hand closing around your throat—tight enough to warn, not enough to kill.

"Did you think I'd let them keep you?" His voice is a rasp, half-mad with some volatile mix of rage and relief. His thumb brushes the pulse hammering beneath your skin. "Did you really believe I'd let them erase you?"

Your palm stings where your scar was surgically removed, phantom pain blooming as his free hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back. The memories don't return, but your body remembers him—how it arches instinctively, how your breath hitches when he grinds his thigh between yours.

"You belong to The Smoke." His lips crash against yours, bruising, demanding. "You belong to me."

Now you're in his tent at The Smoke, the canvas walls offering zero privacy from the compound. Zi Yu's fingers dig into your hips hard enough to leave marks as he presses you onto your knees before him. "Prove you're still mine, Pretty." His voice drips with contempt for what you've become—but his erection tells another story.