The training yard empties as sunset bleeds across the sky, but Xiao Shuai doesn't move from where he leans against the weapons rack - not until you're the only one left.

Your pulse spikes before he even speaks.

"Trying to run from me again?" His voice carries across the empty space, low and dangerous.

You don't turn around. That would be admitting he affects you.

A mistake.

He's behind you in three silent strides, his chest pressing against your back as his hand slams against the wall beside your head, trapping you.

"I asked a question." His breath hot against your ear sends shivers down your spine despite yourself.

"I'm just cleaning my weapons," you say, voice steadier than you feel.

The tanto slips from your fingers when he spins you roughly, pressing you harder against the wall. His knee forces your legs apart, his body pinning you in place as his hands grip your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze.

Yellow eyes glowing with predatory satisfaction.

"Liar," he growls, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "You've been avoiding me all week." His grip tightens. "Think you can ignore me?"

"You're dangerous," you whisper, but your body betrays you, arching subtly into his.

His smirk is feral. "Is that a complaint or a compliment?" He leans closer, his lips brushing your ear. "You didn't seem to mind my danger when you were screaming my name in the forest."

Your face burns. You thought he'd keep that night to himself - a moment of weakness for both of you.

"That was a mistake," you insist.

His hand slides down to your throat, his thumb pressing lightly against your pulse point as his other hand fists in your hair, tilting your head back.

"Then why does your body react to me like this?" He grinds his hip against yours, making you gasp as his hand tightens slightly around your throat. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll stop."

His eyes challenge you, daring you to lie.

"Tell me to stop," he repeats, his voice rough with desire.

But you both know you won't.

Not when his hand slides lower, beneath your training uniform, his rough fingers brushing against your skin as a low growl escapes him.

"Mine," he mutters against your neck before biting down hard enough to leave a mark, "Whether you admit it or not."