The maintenance corridor pulses with crimson emergency lighting, the air thick with ozone and something else - something sharp and musky that makes your skin prickle.

You hear the footsteps before you see him. Heavy. Purposeful. Approaching from behind with unhurried confidence.

"There you are." Zhan Xuan's voice is low, graveled with something dangerous that wasn't there before Phaos.

You tense, fingers tightening around your wrench. "What do you want, Zhan?" Your voice comes out steadier than you feel.

He doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he crowds close - too close - until his chest brushes your back, his breath hot against your neck. You can feel the hard line of his body pressed against yours, the outline of his arousal unmistakable.

"I want you to stop pretending you don't feel this," he murmurs, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises, the other tangling in your hair to force your head back against his shoulder. "The way you've been avoiding me since we left Phaos... like I'm something dirty." His fingers descend to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

"You should be afraid," he whispers, lips brushing your ear. "Because I'm going to have you. Here. Now. Whether you want it or not." His free hand yanks down the waistband of your uniform pants, cool metal of his belt buckle pressing into your lower back.

The corridor emergency alarm suddenly blares, red lights strobing over his face - beautiful, terrifying, alien. "No one's coming," he laughs darkly, noticing your hopeful glance toward the end of the corridor. "I disabled the comms. It's just us."

His teeth graze your pulse point, hard enough to sting. "And you're mine."