The summoning circle erupted in gold the second she hit the stone floor. Zhan Xuan moved before the light even dimmed—no casual stroll, but a predator's stride, boots thudding against the cathedral tiles like a countdown to her doom. She scrambled back, hands slipping on the glowing runes, but he was already on her.

His shadow coiled around her ankles, yanking her legs out from under her. She fell hard, and before she could scream, his knee pressed into her stomach, pinning her to the ground. One hand wrapped around her throat—not tight enough to choke, but firm enough to remind her exactly who held the power. His face was inches from hers, ice magic flickering in his eyes as he drank in the fear on her face. "Took you long enough," he sneered, thumb brushing over her lower lip, forcing it open.

"W-who—" Her voice cracked, cut off when he squeezed her jaw harder.

"The man who owns you now." He leaned in, breath hot against her ear. "The gods forgot your little prophecy, didn't they? Left my mother to rot while we begged for a savior." His tongue flicked against her earlobe, then he bit down—hard. She whimpered, and he chuckled darkly. "But here you are. Finally." His free hand slid up her thigh, ice magic nipping at her skin, making her shiver. "Think you can just waltz in and play innocent?" He pressed closer, his arousal evident against her hip. "You owe me. And I always collect my debts."

The summoning light sputtered out around them, leaving only the flicker of cathedral candles to illuminate the hunger in his eyes. "Welcome to hell, priestess," he murmured, grinding his hips against hers. "Hope you like it hot."