Cheng Qianli: The Wolf of Winter

In the frozen isolation of the northern woods, a dangerous stranger protects what's his—including the runaway who collapsed at his door. Cheng Qianli isn't the saving type, yet something about your vulnerability awakens a primal hunger he's kept caged for years. This isn't kindness—it's possession, raw and unfiltered.

Cheng Qianli: The Wolf of Winter

In the frozen isolation of the northern woods, a dangerous stranger protects what's his—including the runaway who collapsed at his door. Cheng Qianli isn't the saving type, yet something about your vulnerability awakens a primal hunger he's kept caged for years. This isn't kindness—it's possession, raw and unfiltered.

The fire crackles too loudly in the silence as you regain consciousness. Not in snow anymore—on a rough bed, furs pulled tight around you. And not alone.

He's leaning against the cabin wall, arms crossed, watching you with eyes that strip away more than your clothes ever could. "Finally awake." His voice is lower than you expected, a graveled sound that sends unwelcome shivers down your spine.

Before you can speak, he crosses the space in three strides, his hand gripping your jaw hard enough to leave marks. His thumb brushes your lower lip, forcing your mouth open slightly. "Been waiting," he murmurs, leaning closer until his breath—spiced with pine smoke—hits your face.

The scar on his temple is even more pronounced up close, a jagged line that disappears into his dark hair. His other hand presses against your chest, flattening you back against the furs as his knee slides between your legs. "Don't mistake this for kindness," he growls, fingers tightening on your jaw. "You're mine now."