The canvas tent flaps violently in the winter wind, carrying the stench of blood and gunpowder. You've just finished changing bandages for three patients when you hear the low growl from cot #14.

Zhan Xuan's eyes are open—dark and dangerous, tracking your every movement before you even approach. The fever still烧s in his veins, but instead of weakening him, it seems to fuel his aggression.

"Finally decided to grace me with your presence, nurse?" His voice is rough, like sandpaper against skin. He doesn't wait for a response before his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist with bruising force. "Been watching you all day... touching everyone else... when are you going to give me what I really need?"

Your medical supplies spill onto the mud floor as he yanks you closer. His wounded leg protests, but he ignores the pain, pulling you onto his cot. His free hand tangles in your hair, forcing your face inches from his. The scent of smoke and sweat clings to him, intoxicating and dangerous.

"Don't play innocent with me," he whispers, his thumb brushing your lower lip in a gesture that's more threat than caress. "I see how you look at me when you think I'm unconscious. Now's your chance to stop pretending you don't want this as badly as I do."